THE   WIND-JAMMERS 


of 


The  "Windjammers  -  $1*50 
The  Black  Barque  -     J.50 

The  Voyage  of  the 
Arrow  -  J.50 


L.  C  PAGE  &  COMPANY 

New  England  Building 
BOSTON,        -        -        MASS. 


Copyright  by  8.  8.  MoClure  Co. 


"CLAWING   OFF  THE   CAPE." 


THE 

WIND-JAMMERS 

By  T.  JENKINS  HAINS 

Author  of  "The  Voyage  of  the  Arrow,"  "The  Black  Barque," 
"The  Strife  of  the  Sea,"  etc. 


BOSTON 
L.  C  PAGE  &  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1894,  1898,  1899,  by  T.  JENKINS  HAINS 
Copyright,  1897,  by  FRANK  A.  MUNSEY 


M*arch;  1906. 


COLONIAL  PRESS 

PRINTED  BY  C.  H.  SIMONDS  &  Co. 

BOSTON,  U.  S.  A. 


TO 

GENERAL   P.    C.    HAINS 

UNITED    STATES    ARMY 
A    STERN    CRITIC    AND 
MY      OLDEST      FRIEND 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

THE  EXECUTIVE  OF  THE  RANDOLPH 9 

TIMBER  NOGGINS 28 

OFF  THE  HORN  :   A  TALE  OF  THE  SOUTHERN  OCEAN  ...  38 

THE  BLACK  CREW  OF  COOPER'S  HOLE     « 52 

JOHNNIE 71 

THE  TREASURE  OF  TINIAN  REEF 84 

THE  LE  MAIRE  LIGHT no 

THE  BACKSLIDERS 124 

CAPTAIN  CRAVEN'S  COURAGE 146 

THE  DEATH  OF  HUATICARA 161 

A  BLUNDER 181 

To  CLIPPERTON  REEF 196 

THE  TRANSMIGRATION  OF  AMOS  JONES 227 

MURPHY  OF  THE  CONEMAUGH 235 

MY  PIRATE 244 

THE  CURSE  OF  WOMAN                     264 


THE   EXECUTIVE    OF    THE 
RANDOLPH 

I  WAS  a  few  months  over  sixteen  when  my  father 
set  me  to  work  in  the  ship-yard.  My  task  con- 
sisted in  carrying  water  for  the  men  to  drink 
and  distributing  among  them  armfuls  of  bolts  and 
trunnels. 

In  this  way  I  became  acquainted  with  the  different 
men  employed  upon  the  various  parts  of  the  vast 
hull  for  the  ship  of  war  that  was  being  set  up,  and  I 
knew  their  peculiarities  and  some  of  their  affairs. 

My  father  was  working  with  several  other  men, 
one  day,  on  the  dead-wood  aft,  when  an  unfinished 
butt  flew  out  from  its  fastenings  and  struck  a  man 
named  Simms,  injuring  him  so  badly  that  he  was  laid 
off  As  the  building  dragged  very  slowly,  other  men 
were  put  on  and  my  father  had  a  new  assistant. 

This  new  man  was  about  thirty  years  of  age  and 
rather  good-looking.  He  had  no  beard  or  mustache, 
and  his  sensitive  mouth  wore  a  grave  expression,  as 
if  he  were  much  given  to  deep  thought. 

It  was  his  eyes,  however,  that  appeared  to  me 
most  remarkable.  They  seldom  met  mine  when  he 
took  his  water  from  me,  and  when  they  did  I  always 
had  the  impression  that  I  had  seen  only  the  whites 
of  them  in  their  corners. 

Only  once  did  he  look  straight  at  me,  and  that 
was  when  I  was  a  trifle  slow  about  bringing  him  a 

9 


'  The  "<  Wiri&r Jammers 


bolt.  Then  he  gazed  'at  trie  'for  fully  a  quarter  of  a 
minute,  and  I  was  so  frightened  by  his  fierce  look 
that  I  almost  dropped  the  bolt  from  my  hand. 

At  other  times  he  smiled  so  pleasantly,  and  said 
so  many  flattering  things  to  everybody,  that  the 
other  workmen  took  a  strong  liking  to  him.  He 
always  had  the  latest  war  news,  and  solemnly  bade 
the  men  thank  Providence  for  each  success  that  at- 
tended General  Washington's  army. 

My  father  finally  invited  him  to  our  house  one 
Sunday,  and  he  appeared  there  all  dressed  and 
powdered  like  any  gentleman  of  wealth  and  position, 
much  to  my  father's  disgust  and  to  my  sister  Peggy's 
astonishment 

He  saw  our  looks,  and  explained  that  he  was  more 
careful  of  his  appearance  on  the  Lord's  day,  inas- 
much as  he  had  held  clerical  orders,  and  that  the 
only  reason  he  took  up  the  work  at  the  ship-yard  was 
because  he  felt  that  he  could  serve  the  Lord  better 
by  helping  to  build  defences  for  the  suffering  country 
than  by  talking. 

His  manner  to  both  Peggy  and  my  mother  was 
such,  that  had  they  been  of  the  blood  royal,  he 
could  hardly  have  treated  them  with  more  deference 
and  respect 

The  way  he  took  to  Peggy  was  remarkable,  and 
he  spent  much  time,  after  this  first  visit,  in  her  com- 
pany talking  of  church  affairs,  with  which  he  ap- 
peared to  be  quite  familiar.  My  mother  and  father 
did  not  object  to  this,  for  they  were  religious  people, 
and  their  dislike  for  the  young  man's  effeminacy 

10 


The  Executive  of  the  Randolph 

soon  gave  place  to  admiration  for  his  zeal  in  these 
elevating  matters. 

The  only  person  frequenting  our  house  who  did 
not  take  greatly  to  Mr.  Robinson  was  George  Rhett, 
our  young  Episcopal  clergyman,  who  was  very  at- 
tentive to  Peggy.  He  thought  Mr.  Robinson's  con- 
versation more  fascinating  than  instructive. 

One  day,  late  in  the  winter,  three  rough-looking 
men  appeared  in  the  yard  and  asked  for  work. 
They  were  put  on  the  gang  under  my  father.  The 
leader  of  these  men  was  a  perfect  giant  in  size,  and 
had  a  head  as  big  and  bald  as  the  butt  of  a  twelve- 
pounder.  He  also  had  a  face  and  manner  of  pe- 
culiar fierceness. 

I  happened  to  be  near  him  one  day  when  my 
father  gave  him  an  order,  which  he  roughly  answered 
with  a  great  oath.  Instantly  Mr.  Robinson  turned 
about  and,  holding  up  his  hands,  raised  his  face  to 
heaven  and  bade  him  ask  forgiveness  for  using  such 
language. 

The  deep  tones  of  his  voice  startled  me  at  first 
with  their  intenseness,  but  the  great  ruffian  laughed. 
Then  he  suddenly  caught  Mr.  Robinson's  eye,  and  a 
change  came  upon  him. 

He  quietly  asked  my  father's  forgiveness  and 
apologized  for  swearing ;  then  he  resumed  work 
with  an  agility  that  reminded  me  I  must  not  stand 
about  gaping. 

Mr.  Robinson,  however,  was  not  satisfied  with 
what  he  had  accomplished.  He  went  to  the  fore- 
man and,  after  a  little  argument,  persuaded  him  to 

ii 


The  Wind-jammers 


discharge  the  three  new  men,  much  to  the  big  bald- 
headed  ruffian's  apparent  disgust. 

This  fellow  and  his  comrades  left  the  yard  with 
some  show  of  feeling  against  Mr.  Robinson,  and 
went  directly  to  our  young  pastor,  Mr.  Rhett,  with 
their  grievance.  They  showed  him  letters  telling  of 
their  good  character,  signed  by  several  prominent 
officers  in  the  army  at  the  North,  and  explained  that 
they  wished  to  work,  and  could  do  so  to  some  ad- 
vantage on  a  part  of  the  hull  where  Mr.  Robinson 
would  not  be  annoyed  by  their  presence. 

When  Mr.  Rhett  heard  it  was  Mr.  Robinson  who 
had  had  the  men  discharged  his  indignation  ran 
high,  and  he  went  about  telling  such  a  tale  of  per- 
secution that  even  my  mild-mannered  sister  Peggy 
was  ready  to  take  up  matters  in  their  behalf. 

Mr.  Rhett  went  to  the  foreman  and  had  the  men 
put  back  on  the  work,  and  was  loud  in  his  praise  of 
them. 

They  really  were  the  best  men  for  heavy  work  in 
the  yard,  and  when,  a  few  days  later,  they  asked  to 
have  several  of  their  friends  employed,  Mr.  Rhett 
was  quite  willing  to  recommend  them.  As  he  was 
very  popular  in  the  community,  his  word  was  of  so 
much  value  that  they  were  immediately  turned  to 
with  their  comrades. 

Mr.  Robinson  took  no  further  notice  of  the  mat- 
ter, but  about  a  week  before  the  launching  Peggy 
came  to  me  and,  with  many  pretty  blushes,  told  me 
I  was  about  to  have  a  new  brother.  My  father  and 
mother  had  consented  to  the  marriage  and  every  one 

12 


The  Executive  of  the  Randolph 

was  as  happy  as  could  be.  That  is,  every  one  ex- 
cept Mr.  Rhett 

The  wedding  took  place  the  day  of  the  launching 
of  the  ship,  and  Peggy  was  a  proud  girl  as  she  stood 
there  on  the  forward  deck  and  watched  a  beautiful 
woman  break  a  bottle  of  wine  over  the  vessel's  bows. 
Then  a  cannon-shot  boomed  out  and  the  name 
"  Randolph"  was  cheered  again  and  again.  It  was 
a  memorable  day  in  our  family,  and  my  father  came 
home  in  such  a  state  my  poor  mother  instantly  sent 
me  for  the  doctor. 

Of  course,  after  this  event  of  the  launching,  all 
talk  was  of  the  war  and  of  what  part  the  frigate — 
named  after  the  Hon.  Peyton  Randolph,  of  Virginia — 
would  take  in  it 

It  was  not  long  before  the  ship  had  her  guns 
aboard  and  the  riggers  were  through  with  her.  Then 
Captain  Biddle  began  looking  for  volunteers  to  help 
man  her. 

Seamen  were  not  plentiful,  but  as  a  man-of-war 
must  have  men  to  man  her  battery,  landsmen  are  as 
good  as  any  other  class  for  this  work  after  they  have 
had  a  little  training. 

I  begged  hard  to  join,  and  as  I  had  now  been  out 
of  employment  nearly  two  months,  while  the  frigate 
was  fitting  out,  and  as  I  also  had  a  hearty  appetite, 
my  poor  father  and  mother  at  last  consented.  This, 
provided  that  I  could  be  regularly  shipped,  and  so 
have  some  chance  of  promotion. 

I  was  very  happy  and  excited  the  morning  my 
father  took  me  on  board  and  asked  Captain  Biddle 

13 


The  Wind-jammers 


for  his  favor,  and  when  I  found  I  was  really  to  go  to 
sea  in  that  splendid  ship  I  fairly  danced  with  joy. 

I  was  a  heavy,  active  boy,  and  soon  learned  to 
handle  a  musket,  cutlass,  or  boarding-pike  in  a  satis- 
factory manner. 

The  best  men  for  this  sort  of  thing,  however,  were 
those  recommended  by  Mr.  Rhett  There  were  over 
twenty  men  aboard  in  this  party,  and  they  had  en- 
listed for  the  full  term  of  the  cruise.  It  was  astonish- 
ing to  see  how  that  bald  ruffian  would  perk  himself 
up  when  handling  a  musket  or  cutlass. 

Finally  the  day  came  for  sailing,  and  a  great  crowd 
collected  to  bid  us  farewell.  I  saw  my  parents  early 
in  the  day,  and  then  Peggy  and  her  husband  came 
to  bid  me  an  affectionate  good-by,  my  poor  sister 
weeping  upon  my  shoulder  and  hugging  me  again 
and  again. 

Three  hundred  and  five  men  stood  upon  the 
frigate's  deck  and  manned  the  yards,  to  answer  the 
shouts  from  the  shore  with  three  ringing  cheers.  A 
gun  boomed  the  parting  salute,  our  yards  were 
braced  sharp  on  the  backstays  to  the  southerly 
breeze,  and  we  stood  rapidly  out  to  sea. 

When  the  bar  was  crossed  and  the  long,  easy  roll 
of  the  ocean  was  felt,  I  began  to  get  a  little  home- 
sick. I  forgot  the  grand  thoughts  I  had  indulged  in 
but  an  hour  before. 

I  struggled  against  this  peculiar  feeling  for  some 
time,  and  then  a  particularly  heavy  rolling  sea  taking 
the  frigate  squarely  on  the  beam,  I  leaned  over  the 
side,  and  cared  not  whether  I  was  alive  or  dead 


The  Executive  of  the  Randolph 

My  paroxysms  must  have  attracted  some  attention, 
for  I  heard  several  men  laugh.  I  turned  quickly, 
and  at  that  moment  a  hand  was  laid  heavily  upon 
my  shoulder,  and  Mr.  Robinson  stood  before  me. 
He  flashed  a  look  at  the  grinning  men  and  they 
turned  away. 

Then  he  raised  that  thin,  piping  voice  of  his  into 
a  deep,  sonorous  tone,  and,  lifting  his  face  skyward, 
bade  me  have  faith  in  the  Lord.  I  had  actually 
begun  to  think  I  was  dying,  for  the  qualms  were 
most  severe ;  so  the  grave  face  and  solemn  manner 
of  my  brother-in-law  were  very  welcome  to  me  in 
spite  of  my  utter  astonishment  at  seeing  him  aboard. 

I  thanked  him  for  his  kindness,  and  gained  much 
strength  from  his  words,  and  then,  without  further 
remark,  I  lay  down  beside  a  broadside  gun  and  tried 
to  lose  consciousness. 

All  that  night  and  the  next  day  I  suffered  agony, 
but  I  found  myself  able  to  attend  to  some  duties, 
and  asked  Mr.  Robinson  why  and  how  he  came  to 
be  on  board.  These  questions  he  answered  abruptly, 
but  gave  me  to  understand  that  it  was  my  sister's 
wish  that  he  should  serve  his  country  as  a  sailor. 

In  a  few  days  I  was  entirely  well,  and  I  was  put 
to  work  as  a  powder-boy,  to  help  pass  ammunition 
from  the  magazine  to  the  guns. 

The  gun  crews  were  drilled  and  the  pieces  fired 
to  test  their  accuracy  and  exercise  the  men.  Then 
we  were  ready  for  any  enemy  of  our  size  and  rating. 
Even  greater,  for  that  matter ;  for  while  we  only 
rated  as  a  thirty-six-gun  frigate,  Captain  Biddle  was 

'5 


The  Wind-jammers 


an  officer  of  such  high  spirit  and  courage  that  he 
would  have  willingly  engaged  a  ship  of  the  line  had 
one  appeared. 

Robinson  was  made  captain  of  an  after  broadside 
gun  crew,  for  in  spite  of  his  knowledge  of  religious 
matters  he  was  every  inch  a  sailor,  and  knew  more 
of  nautical  affairs — including  the  handling  of  naval 
guns — than  any  man  on  the  ship,  except,  perhaps, 
Captain  Biddle  himself. 

Four  of  the  men  recommended  by  Mr.  Rhett 
were  in  his  gun's  crew,  and  they  were  the  stoutest 
and  most  grim-looking  ruffians  when  working  stripped 
to  the  waist  that  ever  stood  behind  the  breech  of 
a  twenty-four-pounder.  When  they  drilled,  they 
would  practise  running  in  their  gun  and  whirling  it 
around  on  the  deck,  and  then  send  the  tackles  about 
in  a  most  confusing  manner. 

Finally  the  officer  of  the  deck  had  to  interfere, 
and  give  Robinson  to  understand  that  gymnastic  ex- 
ercises were  out  of  place  on  the  gun-deck. 

In  spite  of  this  he  was  highly  esteemed  by  Cap- 
tain Biddle,  and  when  his  men  yelled  at  each  dis- 
charge he  was  not  reprimanded. 

We  were  off  Charleston  one  evening,  cruising  to 
the  eastward  under  easy  canvas,  and  waiting  for  a 
prize  to  heave  in  sight.  Several  British  vessels  were 
known  to  be  bound  for  the  colonies,  loaded  with 
arms  and  supplies  for  the  enemy's  troops,  and  it 
would  be  a  godsend  to  catch  up  with  one,  as  there 
were  not  half  enough  muskets  ashore  to  equip  the 
volunteers  in  the  Carolinas. 

16 


The  Executive  of  the  Randolph 

It  was  noticed  by  some  on  board  that,  while  the 
majority  of  the  men  and  all  the  officers  appeared 
anxious  for  a  meeting  with  the  foe,  there  was  a 
peculiar  apathy  shown  among  a  part  of  the  crew. 
These  were  the  men  whom  Mr.  Rhett  had  helped  to 
get  work,  and  they  appeared  quiet  and  listless,  taking 
no  interest  in  the  sails  we  raised  above  the  horizon 
and  maintaining  a  manner  of  sullen  effrontery  to  all 
who  did  not  share  their  intimacy. 

It  was  first  supposed  that  the  new  life  and  disci- 
pline did  not  appeal  favorably  to  them,  but  as  they 
made  no  complaint  little  thought  was  given  to  the 
matter.  Robinson  kept  away  from  this  crowd  ex- 
cept at  drill  times,  and  then  he  did  much  to  exhort 
them  not  to  be  so  profane. 

Several  times  I  noticed  groups  of  men,  who  were 
not  on  watch,  having  a  large  sprinkling  of  these  fel- 
lows among  them  standing  about,  talking  in  a  man- 
ner that  could  hardly  be  said  to  speak  well  of  the 
discipline  aboard  the  ship. 

The  sun  had  gone  down  but  little  over  half  an 
hour,  dyeing  the  light  clouds  in  the  west  a  fiery  red, 
when  the  man  on  the  lookout  in  the  foretop  hailed 
the  deck. 

"Sail  dead  ahead,  sir !"  he  bawled 

In  half  a  second  all  eyes  were  turned  in  that  di- 
rection. Instantly  royals  were  sheeted  home,  while 
the  outer  jibs,  topmast,  and  topgallant-staysails  were 
run  up,  making  the  frigate  heel  to  leeward  under  the 
pressure. 

Men  were  sent  to  quarters,  the  magazines  opened, 

2  I? 


The  Wind-jammers 


the  guns  loaded  and  run  out,  and  everything  was 
ready  for  action. 

We  had  little  time  to  wait  to  find  out  what  the 
vessel  was  ahead,  for  her  captain  was  evidently  as 
anxious  to  meet  us  as  we  were  to  meet  him,  and  he 
stood  for  us  with  every  stitch  of  canvas  drawing 
alow  and  aloft. 

It  grew  quite  dark,  but  we  could  still  see  the 
stranger,  and  by  the  heavy  topsails  and  well-trimmed 
yards  it  was  easy  to  see  that  the  vessel  was  a  man-of- 
war. 

In  about  half  an  hour  we  came  abreast,  and  not 
more  than  fifty  fathoms  distant,  but  somehow  the 
Randolph  was  sent  to  leeward,  giving  the  stranger 
the  weather-gage.  Then  we  had  no  difficulty  in 
recognizing  the  frigate  Yarmouth,  sixty-four  guns, 
commanded  by  Captain  Vincent  of  his  majesty's 
navy. 

As  we  were  new  and  unknown,  the  British  ensign 
had  been  run  up  to  deceive  the  enemy,  Captain  Bid- 
die  hoping  to  get  in  close  and  deliver  a  crippling 
broadside  before  the  Yarmouth  was  aware  of  our 
intentions,  but  I  am  not  certain  whether  it  was  seen 
or  not  in  the  darkness. 

Every  man  was  at  his  post,  standing  silent  and 
motionless  in  the  dim  light  of  the  battle-lanterns, 
and  every  gun  on  the  starboard  broadside  was  kept 
trained  on  the  British  frigate. 

We  drew  directly  abreast,  and  a  hoarse  voice 
hailed  us  through  the  gloom. 

"  Fire !"  came  the  order  clear  and  distinct  from 
18 


The  Executive  of  the  Randolph 

the  quarter-deck,  and  our  answer  to  the  hail  was 
the  deep  rolling  thunder  of  twenty  heavy  guns,  fired 
almost  simultaneously. 

Then,  as  we  ran  clear  of  the  cloud  from  our  guns, 
the  Yarmouth  appeared  to  burst  into  a  spitting  line 
of  flame,  and  the  shot  from  her  answering  broad- 
side crashed  among  us  while  she  disappeared  in  a 
storm  of  smoke. 

The  scene  on  our  spar-deck  was  frightful.  Men 
struck  by  the  flying  shot  or  splinters  were  hurled  and 
pitched  about  and  fell  in  mangled  groups  upon  the 
sanded  planks. 

Then  the  order  came  to  wear  ship,  and  we  paid 
off  rapidly  to  the  northward,  to  bring  our  port  broad- 
side to  bear  upon  the  enemy  as  she  crossed  our 
wake,  coming  after  us  in  full  chase. 

We  were  new  and  light,  and  probably  able  to  go 
two  knots  to  her  one,  if  no  accident  happened  to 
our  sailing  gear.  Our  rigging  had  not  been  seriously 
cut  and  our  spars  were  sound,  so  it  is  hard  to  tell 
just  how  the  action  would  have  ended  had  the  fight 
continued  as  it  commenced. 

But  there  were  other  matters  at  hand  far  more 
dangerous  to  us  than  his  majesty's  sixty-four-gun 
frigate  Yarmouth. 

As  I  passed  a  powder  charge  to  the  after  starboard 
gun,  I  turned  and  looked  across  the  deck  at  Robin- 
son and  his  crew. 

Instead  of  running  his  gun  out  and  laying  it  to- 
wards the  enemy,  he  and  his  men  quickly  shifted  the 
tackles  and,  sjewing  it  around,  trained  it  down  the 

19 


The  Wind-jammers 


port  broadside  through  the  line  of  gun  crews.  As 
he  did  so,  some  thirty  men — among  whom  I  recog- 
nized the  big  bald  ruffian  and  his  comrades  of  the 
ship-yard — rushed  down  the  starboard  side,  and  came 
aft,  yelling  and  swearing  and  with  their  cutlasses 
swinging  in  their  hands. 

They  took  their  places  around  and  behind  Robin- 
son's gun,  while  one  man  stepped  out  and  coolly 
rammed  a  bag  of  musket-balls  down  the  muzzle. 

"What  are  you  doing?"  roared  the  officer  of  the 
deck  from  the  break  of  the  poop. 

"  Watch  me,"  said  Robinson,  quietly ;  and  with 
that  he  let  off  the  heavy  gun,  double  charged,  along 
the  deck. 

The  discharge  swept  the  gangway  clear  of  living 
men,  the  poor,  surprised  fellows  going  down  in 
groups  like  grass  before  a  scythe-blade.  Then,  with 
a  roaring  yell,  the  ruffians  left  the  spar-deck  to  the 
gun  crews  and  rushed  aft  in  a  body,  with  Robinson 
and  the  bald-headed  giant  at  their  front 

It  was  all  so  sudden  no  one  realized  what  was 
taking  place.  The  ship  was  off  before  the  wind, 
racing  along  to  the  northward  through  the  gloom. 

The  lanterns  of  the  port  battery  were  smashed 
or  blown  out,  and  the  shrieks  and  groans  of  the 
wounded  men  added  to  the  confusion  and  terror 
of  the  scene.  Those  men  left  alive  and  unhurt 
on  the  port  side  were  tailing  on  to  the  waring 
braces. 

The  officers  forward  bawled  and  swore  at  the  be- 
wildered sailors,  trying  to  get  them  to  realize  their 

20 


The  Executive  of  the  Randolph 

position,  and  while  they  did  so  the  villains  were 
taking  the  quarter-deck. 

It  was  a  short,  desperate  fight  aft,  but  they  had 
laid  their  plans  so  well  that  every  officer  was  taken 
off  his  guard  and  cut  down  before  even  preparing  to 
make  a  defence.  Then  the  ruffians  were  masters  of 
the  quarter-deck. 

I  saw  the  Yarmouth  on  the  port  quarter.  She 
loomed  dimly  through  the  gloom  nearly  a  mile  away, 
and  as  I  looked  I  saw  the  intermittent  flashes  of  her 
bow-chasers  and  heard  the  regular  firing. 

A  shot  from  one  of  her  long  twenty-fours  tore 
past  me,  and  killed  a  man  who  was  just  starting  aft 
to  join  in  the  affray  on  the  poop.  I  thought  for  an 
instant  that  they  might  know  on  the  Yarmouth  what 
was  taking  place  on  board  the  Randolph,  but  after- 
wards I  found  they  knew  nothing. 

In  a  few  moments  the  men  forward  began  to  see 
what  had  happened  aft,  and  they  just  recovered 
themselves  as  Robinson  and  his  crew  finished  off  the 
last  man  and  were  running  the  ship  away  to  the 
northward  without  a  thought  of  engaging  the  enemy. 

So  far  the  villains  had  been  successful,  and  with 
another  turn  of  good  luck  would  be  masters  of  a 
large  frigate,  fully  equipped  and  provisioned  for  a 
long  cruise. 

Robinson  could  then  have  become  a  wealthy  pirate 
in  the  West  Indian  and  South  American  waters,  and 
retired  from  the  sea  in  a  year  or  two  without  much 
danger  of  being  caught,  for  his  vessel  was  larger 
and  faster  than  any  he  would  be  likely  to  meet 

21 


The  Wind-jammers 


From  the  capes  of  Virginia  to  the  river  Plate  no 
vessel  of  this  size  had  cruised  for  years,  and  he 
would  have  had  a  good  chance  to  make  a  clean  sweep 
before  anything  caught  up  with  him. 

But  this  turn  of  luck  for  him  did  not  occur.  When 
he  had  finished  his  deadly  work  aft  and  started  his 
men  forward,  our  men  rallied,  and,  led  on  by  the 
under  officers  left  alive,  began  to  make  a  stand. 

Robinson  rushed  his  men  on  in  a  style  worthy  of 
a  better  cause.  And  the  way  that  great  bald  ruffian 
went  into  our  poor  fellows  was  astounding. 

They  charged  up  the  port  gangway  in  a  close  body 
and  engaged  with  pike  and  cutlass,  forcing  those  be- 
fore them  who  were  not  cut  down,  until  they  reached 
the  mainmast.  Robinson  appeared  like  a  fiend.  He 
roared  and  yelled  to  his  men  to  press  on,  and  slashed 
right  and  left  with  amazing  power. 

The  great  bald  ruffian,  who  now  appeared  as  his 
right-hand  man,  kept  close  to  him,  and  they  went 
along  that  deck  leaving  a  bloody  path  to  mark  their 
course. 

They  cut  down  and  killed  or  wounded  every  man 
who  had  the  hardihood  to  dispute  their  way.  I  saw 
Robinson  strike  a  gunner  a  blow  that  stretched  him 
dead  with  his  skull  cleft  to  the  ears,  and  then,  in- 
stantly recovering  his  weapon,  he  drove  it  clear 
through  the  body  of  the  man  next  to  him. 

One  officer  alone  stood  before  the  rush.  I  do  not 
remember  his  name,  but  he  commanded  the  forward 
battery. 

He  engaged  Robinson  for  an  instant  and  smote 

22 


The  Executive  of  the  Randolph 

him  sorely  with  his  weapon,  for,  although.  I  could 
not  see  the  stroke  in  the  gloom,  I  heard  the  villain 
cry  out  fiercely  as  if  in  pain.  The  next  instant  the 
bald  man  struck  the  officer  to  the  deck  and  pressed 
on  harder  than  ever. 

This  officer  evidently  understood  the  situation  to 
be  more  desperate  than  it  really  was,  for,  as  the  crowd 
of  ruffians  passed  over  him,  he  arose  with  difficulty 
and  staggered  to  the  hatchway  which  led  to  the 
magazine.  I  guessed  his  purpose  the  instant  he 
disappeared,  and  I  saw  him  no  more. 

The  fight  went  on  forward  for  some  minute  longer, 
and  I  was  driven  to  the  forecastle  by  a  fierce  scoun- 
drel who  bore  down  on  me  with  a  reeking  cutlass. 
Then  a  sudden  rally  of  our  men  turned  my  enemy 
and  their  rush  was  brought  to  an  end. 

As  we  were  five  to  one  in  point  of  numbersf  it 
now  began  to  look  as  if  we  would  soon  make  way 
against  the  assault.  Some  of  our  men  got  around 
in  their  rear,  and  we  began  to  close  in  on  them  with 
something  like  a  chance  of  winning  the  fight,  but  it 
was  never  fought  out. 

I  saw  the  big  bald  man  strike  furiously  at  a  man 
near  me,  and  swing  his  weapon  around  so  fiercely 
that  not  one  of  our  men  dared  get  within  its  reach, 
although  they  brought  up  stubbornly  just  beyond  it. 
Then  Robinson  dashed  in  to  where  I  stood  with  my 
loaded  musket.  I  fired  blindly  and  then  saw  his 
blade  flash  up,  and  I  felt  my  end  had  come. 

At  that  instant  the  whole  ship  shivered  and  burst 
into  a  mass  of  flame.  I  felt  myself  hurled  into  the 

23 


The  Wind-jammers 


air  as  the  deck  disappeared  under  me,  and  the  next 
moment  I  found  myself  in  the  water. 

I  looked  around  me  on  all  sides  and  saw  nothing 
but  the  waves  that  stretched  away  into  the  sur- 
rounding gloom.  I  was  uninjured  and  swam  easily, 
thinking  that  my  end  must  be  near,  and  that  I  could 
only  prolong  my  existence  by  half  an  hour's  hard 
struggle. 

I  was  much  dazed,  but  remembered  the  Yar- 
mouth, and  looked  about  for  some  sign  of  her. 

Finally  I  made  out  a  dark  object  over  a  mile 
away,  and  soon  I  recognized  her  standing  directly 
for  me.  This  gave  me  hope  for  a  short  time,  and  I 
struck  out  strongly,  thinking  it  might  be  possible  to 
gain  her  if  she  remained  in  the  vicinity  of  the  blown- 
up  frigate. 

I  was  a  good  swimmer,  and  made  some  headway 
until  I  butted  hard  into  a  floating  object  I  failed  to 
see  in  the  darkness  and  nearly  stove  in  my  skull.  I 
reached  wildly  upward,  and  my  hands  clutched  the 
combings  of  a  hatchway. 

Then  I  recovered  myself  and  drew  my  tired  body 
clear  of  the  sea.  I  had  a  float  that  would  keep  me 
from  sinking  as  long  as  I  had  strength  to  stay  upon 
it 

The  Yarmouth  bore  down  on  me,  and  I  cried 
out.  She  altered  her  course  a  point  or  two,  but  did 
not  stop,  and  in  a  moment  she  was  gliding  away 
into  the  darkness,  leaving  me  alone  on  the  hatch- 
way. 

I  could  hear  the  rush  of  the  water  under  her  bluff 
24 


The  Executive  of  the  Randolph 

bows,  and  the  cries  of  the  men  on  deck  calling  out 
orders.     Then  she  faded  away  into  the  night 

In  a  little  while  I  heard  a  cry  from  the  dark  water 
near  me,  and  soon  I  made  out  a  man's  head  close  to 
the  hatch.  I  called  to  him,  and  reached  out  and 
pulled  him  up  on  the  float,  for  he  was  too  weak  to 
help  himself. 

He  raised  his  face  as  it  came  close  to  mine,  and  I 
recognized  my  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Robinson. 

He  was  very  feeble,  and  I  soon  saw  that  he  was 
badly  hurt,  but  he  said  not  a  word  and  lay  there  on 
his  back,  quietly  gazing  up  at  the  stars. 

I  could  see  his  features  with  that  look  of  profound 
thought  expressed  upon  them  as  in  the  days  we 
worked  in  the  ship-yard  together. 

My  only  feeling  towards  him  was  one  of  awe. 
No  idea  of  killing  him  entered  my  head,  though  I 
could  easily  have  disposed  of  him  in  his  present 
weak  state,  so  there  I  sat  gazing  at  him,  and  he  took 
no  more  notice  of  me  than  if  I  was  part  of  the  float- 
ing hatchway. 

In  a  little  while  I  made  out  another  dark  object 
in  the  water  near  us,  and  presently  a  voice  hailed 
me.  I  answered,  and  soon  afterwards  a  piece  of 
spar  supporting  three  men  came  alongside  the  hatch. 

They  were  all  Robinson's  followers.  Taking 
some  of  the  rigging  that  trailed  from  the  spar,  they 
lashed  it  to  the  hatch,  and  the  two  pieces  together 
made  a  serviceable  raft. 

Then  all  drew  themselves  clear  of  the  water  and 
lay  prone  on  the  float  to  rest. 

25 


The  Wind-jammers 


It  was  an  awful  night  we  spent  on  that  bit  of  wood 
washed  by  the  waves,  but  when  morning  dawned 
the  breeze  fell  away  entirely,  so  the  sea  no  longer 
broke  over  us. 

The  sun  rose  and  shone  hot  on  a  glassy  ocean,  and 
not  a  sail  was  in  sight. 

There  is  little  use  in  describing  the  four  days  of 
suffering  spent  on  that  float.  Robinson  was  horribly 
burned  and  badly  cut  by  a  blow  from  a  cutlass. 
His  left  arm  was  shattered  from  the  shot  I  fired  at 
him,  and  he  was  otherwise  used  up  from  the  minor 
blows  he  had  received  in  his  fierce  rush.  But  he 
lived  long  enough  to  prevent  his  ruffian  crew  from 
killing  me.  I  was  bound  by  a  solemn  oath  to  say 
nothing  of  the  affair  as  I  had  seen  it,  so  that  if  we 
were  the  sole  survivors — which  we  were  not  certain 
of  being  at  that  time — there  could  be  no  evidence  to 
implicate  my  shipmates. 

Robinson  must  have  known  that  he  was  fatally  hurt, 
and  that  is  the  reason  he  made  them  spare  my  life. 
Whatever  I  told  would  not  harm  him  ;  and,  besides, 
I  really  think  he  turned  to  the  memory  of  my  sister 
during  those  last  hours. 

He  died  very  shortly  after  the  Yarmouth  picked 
us  up,  and  the  British  officers  and  men  buried  him 
with  some  ceremony  ;  especially  respectful  were  they 
when  they  were  told  that  he  was  our  executive  officer. 

There  was  some  truth  in  this  grim  falsehood, 
although  not  of  the  kind  suspected. 

He  was  sewn  carefully  in  canvas  the  day  after  we 
were  rescued,  and  had  a  twelve-pound  shot  lashed 

26 


The  Executive  of  the  Randolph 

to  his  feet  The  burial  service  was  read  by  the 
ship's  chaplain  in  much  the  same  tone  I  had  heard 
Robinson  quote  from  the  Scriptures  in  my  father's 
house. 

All  the  officers  uncovered  as  he  was  dropped  over 
the  side,  and  the  silence  that  followed  the  splash  of 
his  body  into  the  sea  was  the  most  impressive -I  have 
ever  observed  to  fall  on  so  large  a  body  of  men. 

Had  they  known  the  truth  about  this  villain,  it 
is  doubtful  if  they  would  have  shown  him  so  much 
honor  and  respect ;  but  then  the  truth  is  often  hard 
to  secure,  and  also  often  undesirable  when  attained. 

Peggy  mourned  her  husband  a  year  or  more,  but 
after  her  boy  began  to  occupy  her  attention  she 
brightened  up  and  married  Mr.  Rhett,  who  was  ever 
faithful  to  her. 

I  kept  my  oath  because  I  took  it.  The  three 
surviving  ruffians  had  joined  the  British  navy  and  no 
retribution  could  be  meted  out  to  them  ;  and  as  for 
my  sister,  she  always  held  her  husband's  memory 
sacred,  and  only  harm  could  come  to  her  and  her 
son  through  knowledge  of  the  truth  about  him. 

Captain  Vincent  of  the  Yarmouth  may  have 
thought  it  strange  a  frigate  like  the  Randolph 
should  have  met  such  a  sudden  end,  but  it  was  al- 
ways understood  that  she  must  have  blown  up  from 
the  effects  of  the  shot  from  his  bow-chasers.  Some 
of  these  did  hull  her,  and  it  was  the  most  reasonable 
way  to  understand  the  matter. 

Now,  when  all  are  gone,  there  can  be  no  harm  in 
telling  what  I  know  of  that  affair. 

27 


TIMBER  NOGGINS 

MR.  ROPESEND,  the  senior  member  of  the 
firm  of  Snatchblock,  Tackle  &  Co.,  sat  in 
his  office  and  drew  forth  his  pocket-knife. 
Upon  the  desk  before  him  lay  a  small  wooden  box 
which  contained  a  patent  taffrail  log.  After  some 
deliberation  he  opened  his  knife  and  began  to  pry 
off  the  lid  of  the  box,  whistling  softly  as  he  did  so. 
In  doing  this  he  awakened  a  strange-looking  animal 
which  lay  at  his  feet.  But  the  animal,  which  Mr. 
Ropesend  called  a  "daschund,"  after  raising  its  long 
body  upon  four  twisted  and  double-jointed  legs  until 
its  belly  barely  cleared  the  floor,  appeared  overcome 
by  the  effort  and  flopped  down  again  with  its  head 
towards  its  master  and  its  hind  legs  trailing  out  be- 
hind on  the  floor. 

Mr.  Ropesend  carefully  removed  the  lid  of  the 
box  and  with  considerable  anxiety  removed  the  in- 
strument. Then  he  laid  it  carefully  upon  the  table, 
while  Gaff,  his  pet,  looked  lazily  up  with  one  eye, 
and  then,  not  caring  for  logs,  slowly  closed  it  again. 

Presently  Mr.  Ropesend  appeared  to  have  de- 
veloped an  idea.  He  rang  the  bell.  A  boy  ap- 
peared almost  instantly  at  the  door  leading  into  the 
main  office. 

"Tell  Mr.  Tackle  to  step  here  a  moment,  please," 
said  Mr.  Ropesend  in  a  soothing  tone. 

The  boy  vanished,  and  in  a  few  minutes  a  man 
28 


Timber  Noggins 


with  red  whiskers  trimmed  "  dishonestly" — with  bare 
chin — made  his  appearance. 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Tackle  ;  here's  the  patent  log 
for  Captain  Green.  What  do  you  think  of  it?" 

"  H'm.  Yes.  H'm-m.  I  see.  I  don't  know  as 
I'm  any  particular  judge  of  logs,  although  I've  been 
in  this  shipping  house  for  twenty  years.  But  it  ap- 
pears to  me  to  be  a  very  fine  instrument.  Very 
fine  indeed,  sir.  Sort  of  screw-propeller  that  end 
affair,  ain't  it?" 

"That's  it,  of  course,"  said  Mr.  Ropesend  in  a 
tone  bordering  on  contemptuous ;  "  sort  of  a  fin- 
screw  with  long  pitch.  It  says  in  order  to  regulate 
it  you  simply  have  to  adjust  the  timber  noggins.  I 
should  suppose  a  man  who  has  been  in  a  shipping 
house  as  long  as  you  have  would  know  all  about  a 
plain  taffrail  log  and  be  able  to  regulate  it  so  as  to 
use  it,  if  necessary." 

"Ah,  yes,  I  see,"  said  Mr.  Tackle  instantly,  with- 
out appearing  to  hear  the  last  part  of  the  senior's 
remarks.  "  Eggzackly.  Regulated  by  timber  nog- 
gins, of  course.  I  didn't  notice  it,  but  any  one  might 
know  it  couldn't  be  regulated  without  timber  nog- 
gins. Let  me  see  it  closer.  That  new  cord  gave  it 
a  strange  look." 

"I'm  glad  you  like  it  and  understand  all  about 
it,"  said  Mr.  Ropesend  in  a  tone  of  decision,  "  for 
I'm  very  busy,  and  you  can  just  take  it  into  your 
office  and  explain  it  to  Captain  Green  when  he 
comes  for  it. "  He  will  be  here  presently." 

So  saying  the  senior  quickly  replaced  the  instru' 


The  Wind-jammers 


ment  in  the  box  and  had  it  in  the  astonished  Tackle's 
hands  before  he  could  get  out  an  H'm-m.  Then 
he  commenced  writing  rapidly  upon  some  important- 
looking  papers  before  him,  giving  Mr.  Tackle  to 
understand  that  the  incident  had  closed. 

Mr.  Tackle  flushed,  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then 
quickly  retired  into  the  outer  office,  and  Mr.  Ropes- 
end,  having  rid  himself  of  the  log,  smiled  grimly  to 
Gaff,  turned  half-way  around  in  his  chair,  proceeded 
to  light  a  cigar  and  puff  the  smoke  at  the  dog's 
face. 

This  provoked  the  animal  to  such  an  extent  that 
he  growled,  snarled,  and  grew  quite  savage,  much  to 
Mr.  Ropesend's  delight 

The  dog  finally  grew  frantic,  and  had  just  risen 
from  the  floor  to  find  more  congenial  quarters,  when 
the  door  opened  suddenly  and  Captain  Green  stepped 
into  the  room  with  a  hoarse  roar  of  "  Good-morning, 
Mr.  Ropesend  ;  I've  come  for  that  patent  log." 

This  sudden  entrance  of  the  loud-voiced  skipper 
was  too  much  for  Gaff's  nerves,  and  he  no  sooner 
found  himself  attacked  in  the  rear  than  he  made  a 
sudden  turn,  and  grabbed  the  first  thing  that  came 
within  his  reach. 

This  happened  to  be  the  calf  of  Captain  Green's 
left  leg,  which  he  held  on  to  in  a  manner  that  showed 
he  had  a  healthy  appetite. 

"  Let  go,  you  son  of  a  sea  cook  !"  bawled  the 
skipper.  "  Let  go,  or  I'll  stamp  the  burgoo  out  o* 
you." 

"Let  go,  Gaff;  that's  a  good  doggie,"  said  Mr. 
30 


Timber  Noggins 


Ropesend  in  his  mildest  tone.     "  Let  go,  Gaff;  you'll 
hurt  your  teeth,  doggie." 

"  Let  go,  you  son  of  a  pirate !"  roared  the  skip- 
per. "  Let  go,  or  I'll  smash  you  !" 

"  Good  heavens,  Captain  Green,  you  forget  your- 
self. What,  strike  a  poor  dumb  brute  !"  cried  Mr. 
Ropesend.  And  he  arose  from  his  chair  as  if  to 
ward  oft  a  threatened  blow. 

Gaff  at  this  juncture  looked  up,  and  apparently 
realized  the  energy  stored  within  the  skipper's  raised 
boot.  He  let  go  and  waddled  under  his  master's 
desk,  his  long  belly  touching  the  ground  amidships, 
as  his  legs  were  too  short  to  raise  it  clear.  From 
this  safe  letreat  he  sent  forth  peculiar  sounds  which 
were  evidently  intended  by  nature  to  terrify  the 
enemy. 

"Wouldn't  strike  him,  hey!"  roared  the  skipper, 
rubbing  his  leg.  "  Well,  maybe  I  wouldn't,  I  don't 
think.  By  Gorry,  Mr.  Ropesend,  that's  a  long-geared 
critter.  I  didn't  know  but  what  he  was  a  sort  o' 
walking  snake  or  sea-sarpint.  I  felt  as  if  a  shark 
had  me.  It's  a  good  thing  I  had  on  these  sea- 
boots." 

"Calm  yourself.  Calm  yourself,  captain,"  said 
the  senior.  "  Did  he  hurt  you  ?" 

"  No,  confound  him,  not  to  speak  of.  It's  a  fine 
watch-dog  he  is  when  he  bites  his  friends  like  this. 
— I  came  for  that  log  you  spoke  of  the  other  day." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Mr.  Ropesend  ;  "  I've  just  given 
it  to  Mr.  Tackle  to  give  to  you.  He  will  explain  it 
to  you, — how  it  works  and  all  that.  Right  in  the  front 


The  Wind-jammers 


office, — yes,  that  door.     Good-morning."     And  the 
skipper  went  out  cursing  softly. 

In  the  front  office  he  met  the  boy  with  the  box 
containing  the  log  and  a  note  from  Mr.  Tackle  deliv- 
ering the  same  to  him,  in  which  he  excused  himself 
from  explaining  the  management  of  the  instrument 
by  the  fact  that  he  was  called  out  suddenly.  The 
note  concluded,  however,  with  the  remark  that  "  the 
instrument  was  quite  easy  to  regulate  by  means  of 
the  timber  noggins,  and  that  he  anticipated  no  dif- 
ficulty with  it." 

The  captain  took  the  box  and  carried  it  on  board 
his  ship,  and  locked  it  in  the  cabin.  He  was  going 
to  sea  the  next  morning,  and,  as  he  had  a  good  deal 
to  attend  to,  he  couldn't  stop  to  investigate  further. 

When  the  ship  had  crossed  the  bar,  the  next  after- 
noon, and  backed  her  main-yards  in  order  to  put  the 
pilot  off,  the  mate  brought  out  the  box  containing  the 
log,  and  proposed  to  put  the  instrument  over  the 
taffrail.  The  third  mate  happened  to  be  standing 
near  and  noticed  him. 

The  third  mate's  name  was  Joseph,  but  being  a 
very  young  man,  and  very  bright,  having  a  fine 
grammar-school  education,  he  was  familiarly  called 
Joe  by  his  superiors  for  fear  that  the  handle  of 
"  Mister"  to  his  name  might  trim  him  too  much  by 
the  head.  Joe  despised  his  superiors  with  all  the 
scornful  feeling  that  a  highly  educated  sailor  has  for 
the  more  ignorant  officers  above  him,  and  it  required 
more  than  ordinary  tact  on  his  part  to  keep  from 
getting  into  trouble. 


Timber  Noggins 


"  Why,  the  skipper  don't  know  enough  to  be  mate 
of  a  liner,"  said  he  to  the  steward  one  day  in  a  burst 
of  confidence.  "  As  for  Gantline,  he  don't  know 
nothing.  You  just  wait  and  see  if  I  don't  get  a 
shove  up  before  we  make  another  voyage  around  the 
Cape." 

He  had  waited,  but  Joseph  was  still  in  his  old  berth 
this  voyage. 

It  was  natural  he  should  be  a  little  more  scornful 
than  ever  now,  and  as  he  watched  the  mate  clumsily 
handling  the  patent  log  a  strong  desire  to  revenge 
himself  for  slighted  genius  came  upon  him. 

When  the  ship's 'yards  were  squared  again  the 
skipper  took  up  the  log  and  examined  it. 

"  I  suppose  you  know  how  to  regulate  the  ma- 
chine, Mr.  Gantline,"  said  he,  addressing  the 
mate. 

"  Can't  say  as  I  do.  I  never  seen  one  like  this 
before." 

"  Why,  blast  you,  all  you've  got  to  do  is  to  twist 
them  timber  noggins  till  it  goes  right,  and  that  does 
the  whole  business.  Then  you  let  her  go." 

"Where's  any  timber  noggins  hereabouts?"  asked 
the  mate. 

"  Why,  on  the  tail  of  the  log ;  see  ?"  and  the  skip- 
per took  up  the  trailing-screw. 

' '  Ah,  yes,  I  see ;  but  how  about  this  clock  ma- 
chine that  goes  on  the  rail.  Don't  seem  to  open 
exactly." 

The  skipper  took  up  this  part  and  examined  it 
carefully. 

3  33 


The  Wind-Jammers 


"That's  all  right  It  don't  open  ;  you  just  keep 
on  letting  her  twist,  and  add  on  to  where  you  start 
from  or  subtract  from  where  you  are." 

"I  see,"  said  the  mate,  and  without  further  ado 
he  dropped  the  trailing-screw  overboard. 

The  third  mate  saw  all  this,  and  he  determined 
to  investigate  the  instrument  during  his  watch  that 
night. 

When  he  went  forward  he  stopped  at  the  car- 
penter's room. 

"Chips,"  said  he,  addressing  his  chum,  "we've 
got  a  new  log  on  board  and  the  skipper  and  mate 
don't  know  how  to  use  it  Now,  I'll  bet  you  they 
will  have  to  get  me  to  show  them,  and  if  I  do,  I'll 
make  them  shove  me  up  the  next  voyage.  Why,  I 
tell  you,  putting  a  good  instrument  like  that  in  the 
hands  of  such  men  is  like  casting  pearls  before — be- 
fore— Captain  Green  and  Gantline.  You  just  wait 
and  see." 

That  night  there  was  very  little  wind,  but  the 
third  mate  wound  the  log  up  for  about  fifty  miles 
more  than  the  ship  travelled. 

"We  don't  need  any  more  sights  for  a  while,"  said 
the  skipper  the  next  morning.  "  Mr.  Snatchblock 
said  that  the  log  was  dead  accurate,  so  we'll  let  her 
run.  Must  have  blown  pretty  stiff  during  the  mid- 
watch,  Mr.  Gantline,  eh  ?"  he  continued,  as  he  looked 
at  what  the  log  registered. 

"No,  I  can't  say  as  it  did,"  said  the  mate,  scratch- 
ing his  head  thoughtfully  as  he  looked  at  the  night's 
run. 

34 


Timber  Noggins 


"Tears  to  me  as  if  we  made  an  all-fired  long  run 
of  it" 

"  Well,  I  guess  you  were  a  little  off  your  first 
night  out.  You'll  be  sober  in  a  day  or  so,"  said  the 
skipper,  with  a  grin. 

The  next  day  it  was  dead  calm  and  foggy,  but  in 
spite  of  this  the  log  registered  a  good  fifty-mile  run, 
and,  as  the  ship  was  to  put  into  Norfolk  to  complete 
her  cargo,  she  was  headed  more  to  the  southward. 

"I  haven't  any  faith  in  that  log,  captain,"  said  Mr. 
Gantline ;  "it  don't  seem  as  if  we  were  off  shore 
enough  to  head  the  way  we  do."  * 

"  Well,  haul  it  in  and  let's  look  at  it,"  said  the 
skipper.  x, 

The  thijrd  mate  was  standing  close  by  and  helped 
haul  in  the  line.  "Captain,"  said  he,  as  the  screw 
came  over  the  rail,  "  this  log  is  not  set  right ;  and  if 
we've  been  running  by  it,  we  are  too  close  in  to  the 
beach." 

"Eh  !  what's  that?  Too  close  in  are  we?  How 
do  you  know  the  log  ain't  all  right?" 

"  Why,  it's  just  a  matter  of  calculation  of  angles," 
replied  the  third  mate.  "  These  fins  that  Mr.  Tackle 
calls  timber  noggins  are  set  at  the  wrong  angle. 
You  see  the  sine  of  the  angle,  at  which  this  blade 
meets  the  water,  must  be  in  the  same  proportion  to 
the  cosine  of  the  angle  to  which  it  is  bent  as  its 
tangent  is  to  its  secant,  see  ?" 

"H'm-m,  yes,  I  see,"  growled  the  skipper;  "but 
why  didn't  you  mention  it  before,  if  you  knew  it  all 
this  time,  instead  of  waiting  until  we  got  way  in  here  ? 

35 


The  Wind-jammers 


Why  didn't  you  tell  Mr.  Gantline  ?"  His  voice  rising 
with  his  anger.  "  Why  didn't  you  tell  Mr.  Gantline 
this  when  you  knew  he'd  never  seen  a  log  like  this 
before?  What  do  you  suppose  you  are  here  for, 
anyhow?"  he  fairly  roared.  "Go  forward,  sir;  I 
won't  have  such  a  man  for  a  mate  on  my  ship." 

"Mr.  Gantline,"  he  said,  after  Joe  had  gone,  "  get 
the  lead-line  and  make  a  few  casts,  sir,  by  yourself, 
— by  yourself,  sir, — and  then  come  and  tell  me  how 
much  water  we've  got  under  us." 

The  mate,  without  any  unnecessary  disturbance, 
got  out  the  lead,  and,  as  it  was  calm  and  the  vessel 
had  no  motion,  he  had  no  difficulty  in  making  a 
deep-sea  sounding.  He  was  also  materially  aided 
by  the  startling  effect  of  the  lead,  when  he  hove  it 
over  the  side  with  fifty  fathoms  of  coiled  line  to  fol- 
low it  To  his  great  amazement  the  line  suddenly 
ceased  running  out  after  the  five-fathom  mark  had 
passed  over,  and  it  became  necessary  to  heave  the 
remaining  forty-five  fathoms  of  coiled  line  after  it,  in 
order  not  to  transmit  this  startling  fact  to  any  one 
that  might  be  looking  on.  Then,  with  a  great  deal  of 
exertion,  he  laboriously  hauled  the  forty-five  fathoms 
in  again,  and  then  called  to  Joe  to  haul  in  and  coil 
down  the  rest,  and  then  put  the  lead  away.  After 
this  he  went  quickly  aft  to  the  skipper  and  whispered 
something  in  his  ear  that  sounded  to  the  man  at  the 
wheel  like  "Shoal — Barnegat"  The  man  at  the 
wheel  might  have  been  mistaken,  and  it  is  only  fair 
to  presume  that  he  was,  but  in  a  very  short  time  the 
ship  was  headed  due  east  again. 

36 


Timber  Noggins 


As  night  came  on,  a  slight  breeze  came  through 
the  fog  and  the  ship  gathered  headway.  The  cap- 
tain, who  had  been  walking  fore  and  aft  on  the  quarter 
in  his  shirt-sleeves,  mopping  great  beads  of  perspi- 
ration from  his  forehead,  now  seemed  to  be  aware 
of  the  chilliness  of  the  air  and  forthwith  went  below. 

The  ship  made  a  very  quick  voyage  around  Cape 
Horn,  and  a  year  later,  when  she  returned,  Mr. 
Ropesend  met  Captain  Green  in  his  office  the  morn- 
ing he  arrived. 

"How  did  you  like  the  patent  log,  captain?"  said 
Mr.  Ropesend. 

"  Mr.  Ropesend,"  said  the  captain,  in  a  deep  voice 
that  made  Gaff  look  up  and  recognize  his  old  friend, — 
"  Mr.  Ropesend,  I  don't  believe  in  these  new-fangled 
logs  what's  regulated  by  timber  noggins,  no  more'n 
I  do  in  these  worthless  third  mates  that's  only  good 
for  teaching  school." 
• 


37 


OFF  THE  HORN:  A  TALE  OF 
THE  SOUTHERN  OCEAN 

THE  average  man  knows  as  little  of  the  region 
where  the  backbone  of  the  American  con- 
tinent disappears  beneath  the  ocean  as  he 
does  of  the  heart  of  Africa.  The  mighty  chain  of 
mountains  that  raise  their  peaks  miles  above  the 
surrounding  country  at  the  equator  sink  gradually 
until  only  a  single  cone-shaped  hump — the  last  ver- 
tebra—raises itself  above  the  sea  in  latitude  55°  50' 
south.  This  is  the  desolate  and  uninhabited  end  of 
the  southern  continent,  commonly  known  as  Cape 
Horn,  and  no  man  gets  any  nearer  to  it  than  he  can 
help.  Past  it  flows  the  deep  ocean  stream  known 
as  the  Pacific  Antarctic  Drift,  and  over  it  whirl  fierce 
hurricanes  in  almost  uninterrupted  succession. 

To  the  southward  and  westward  rise  the  jagged 
rocks  of  the  Ramirez,  but  these  do  not  break  in  any 
manner  the  force  of  the  high,  rolling  sea  which 
sweeps  down  from  the  Pacific.  There  is  but  little 
life  on  any  of  these  tussock-covered  peaks,  and  they 
3ffer  no  shelter,  save  to  the  white  albatross  and  the 
wingless  penguin. 

It  is  past  this  dreaded  cape,  in  a  region  of  almost 
continual  storm  and  with  a  rapidly  shifting  needle, 
the  navigator  of  the  sailing  vessel  has  to  drive  his 
way.  The  Straits  of  Magellan  offer  no  passage  to 
the  handler  of  square  canvas,  and  the  furious,  whirl- 


Off  the  Horn 


ing  current  of  the  Le  Maire  is  usually  avoided,  as 
when  navigated  it  only  saves  a  few  miles  of  westing. 
The  floating  ice  is  always  a  dreaded  menace,  for 
with  the  spume-drift  flying  before  a  freezing  gale  and 
surrounded  by  the  gloom  of  the  high  latitude  in 
winter,  it  is  difficult  to  distinguish  an  object  fifty 
fathoms  ahead  of  a  ship's  cut- water. 

Rough,  hard  men  were  the  "  wind-jammers,"  as 
they  were  called,  who  earned  a  right  to  live  by  driv- 
ing overloaded  ships  around  this  cape,  from  50° 
south  latitude  on  one  side  to  50°  south  latitude  on 
the  other.  With  the  yards  "jammed"  hard  on  the 
backstays,  they  would  take  advantage  of  every  slant 
in  the  wind,  until  at  last  it  would  swing  fair,  and 
then  away  they  would  go,  running  off  for  the  other 
side  of  the  world  with  every  rag  the  vessel  would 
stand  tugging  away  at  clew  and  earring,  sending 
her  along '  ten  or  twelve  knots  an  hour  towards  the 
latitude  of  the  trade-wind. 

Men  of  iron  nerve,  used  to  suffering  and  hard- 
ship, they  were,  for  they  had  to  stand  by  for  a 
call  to  shorten  sail  at  any  hour  of  the  day  or  night. 
Their  food  consisted  of  salt-junk  and  hardtack,  with 
roasted  wheat  boiled  for  coffee,  and  a  taste  of  sugar  to 
sweeten  it.  Beans  and  salt  pork  were  the  only  other 
articles  to  vary  the  monotonous  and  unhealthful  diet. 
As  for  lime-juice,  it  existed  only  in  the  imagination 
of  the  shipping  commissioner  who  signed-on  the  men. 

The  Silver  Sea  was  manned  and  officered  by  a  set 
of  men  who  had  been  longer  in  the  trade  around  the 

39 


The  Wind-jammers 


Cape  than  any  others  of  the  deep-water  fleet.  She 
crossed  the  5<Dth  parallel  on  the  morning  of  June 
20,  and  not  being  certain  of  her  exact  longitude, 
Captain  Enoch  Moss  headed  her  a  trifle  to  the  east- 
wards to  clear  Staten  Land.  The  second  day  after- 
wards land  was  looked  for,  the  first  to  be  seen  in 
eighty  days  out  of  New  York. 

Enoch  Moss  was  said  to  be  a  hard  man  among 
hard  men.  His  second  mate  was  a  man  named 
Garnett,  a  fellow  who  had  been  so  smashed,  shot, 
and  stove  up,  in  the  innumerable  fracases  in  which 
he  had  taken  part,  that  to  an  unnautical  eye  he  ap- 
peared an  almost  helpless  old  man.  His  twisted 
bow-legs,  set  wide  apart,  gave  him  a  peculiar  lurch- 
ing motion  when  he  walked,  and  suggested  the  idea 
that  he  was  continually  trying  to  right  himself  into 
equilibrium  upon  the  moving  world  beneath  his  feet. 

A  large,  red-headed  Irishman,  with  a  freckled, 
hairless  face,  named  O'Toole,  was  the  first  officer  on 
board.  It  was  his  watch  on  deck,  and  he  stood, 
quadrant  in  hand,  calling  off  time  sights  to  the  skip- 
per, who  sat  below  checking  up  his  reckoning. 

Garnett  sat  on  the  main-hatch  and  smoked,  wait- 
ing and  resting,  for  he  seldom  turned  in  during  his 
day  watches  below.  A  man  sat  in  the  maintop,  and, 
as  O'Toole  took  his  last  sight,  hailed  the  deck. 

"Land  ho!"  he  bawled.  "Little  for'ard  o'  the 
beam  !"  And  he  pointed  to  the  ragged  peaks  of 
Staten  Land  showing  dimly  through  the  haze  to  the 
westward.  It  was  very  close  reckoning  after  all,  and 
O'Toole  was  well  pleased  as  he  bawled  the  news 

4? 


Off  the  Horn 


down  the  companion-way  to  the  skipper.  Then  he 
turned  to  Garnett,  who  had  come  on  the  poop. 

"  'Tis  a  pity,  Garnett,  yer  eddication  was  so  mis- 
placed ye  don't  know  a  hog-yoke  from  a  dead-eye, 
fer  ye  miss  all  the  cream  av  navigation." 

Garnett  removed  his  cap  and  mopped  the  dent  in 
the  top  of  his  bald  cranium. 

"  You  an'  your  hog-yoke  be  hanged.  If  I  used 
up  as  much  canvas  as  you  the  company  would  be 
in  debt  to  the  sail-makers.  I  mayn't  be  able  to  take 
sights  like  you,  but  blast  me  if  I  would  lift  a  face 
like  yourn  to  heaven.  No,  stave  me  if  I  wouldn't 
be  afraid  of  giving  offence.  I  mayn't  have  much 
of  a  show  hereafter,  but  I  wouldn't  like  to  lose  the 
little  I  have." 

"  Git  out,  ye  owld  pirit !  And  say,  Garnett,  ye 
know  this  is  the  first  land  sighted,  so  ye  better  get 
your  man  ready  to  go  ashore.  The  owld  man  swore 
he'd  put  him  ashore  on  the  first  rock  sighted,  for  sez 
he,  '  I  don't  want  no  more  cutting  fracases  aboard 
this  ship.'  " 

The  man  referred  to  was  a  tall,  dark-haired 
Spaniard,  who  had  already  indulged  in  four  fights 
on  board  in  which  his  sheath-knife  had  played  a 
prominent  part  Having  been  put  in  double  irons 
he  had  worked  himself  loose,  so  the  captain,  not 
wishing  to  be  short-handed  with  wounded  men  off 
the  Cape,  had  decided  to  hold  court  in  the  after 
cabin  before  marooning  the  man,  as  he  had  sworn  to 
do  when  the  ruffian  had  broken  loose  and  again 
attacked  a  former  opponent.  The  news  of  sighting 

41 


The  Wind-jammers 


the  land  brought  him  on  deck  while  the  mates  were 
talking,  and  he  made  known  his  course  in  the  matter 
a  few  moments  after  O'Toole  had  ceased  speaking. 

"  You  can  bring  the  fellow  aft,  Mr.  Garnett,"  said 
he.  "And  twelve  men  of  your  watch  can  have  a 
say  in  the  matter  before  I  put  him  ashore." 

Garnett  left  the  poop  and  went  forward  and  told 
his  watch  what  was  wanted,  and  they  in  turn  told 
the  man,  Gretto  Gonzales,  whom  they  held  tightly 
bound  for  further  orders. 

"  Eet  iz  no  fair  !  Yo  no  hablo  Engleeze  !"  cried 
the  ruffian,  who  began  to  understand  his  position. 

"Colorado  maduro,  florifino  perfecto,"  replied 
Garnett,  gravely,  remembering  what  Spanish  he  had 
read  on  the  covers  of  various  cigar-boxes.  "  If  you 
don't  savey  English,  I'm  all  solid  with  your  bloomin' 
Spanish.  So  bear  a  hand,  bullies,  and  bring  the 
convict  aft." 

His  victim,  a  mortally  wounded  man  lying  in  a 
bunk,  and  two  others  badly  cut  in  the  onslaughts 
Gonzales  had  begun  the  first  day  at  sea,  smiled 
hopefully.  Davis,  the  principal  object  of  his  attacks, 
cursed  him  quietly,  although  his  lungs  had  been 
pierced  twice  by  the  Spaniard's  knife.  The  two 
other  men,  Americans,  who  had  taken  his  part  in 
the  affrays  and  suffered  in  consequence,  also  swore 
heartily,  and  sarcastically  wished  Gonzales  a  pleasant 
sojourn  on  the  Tierra  del  Fuego. 

Although  the  ship  carried  no  passengers,  Enoch 
Moss  had  thought  fit  to  provide  a  stewardess.  This 
woman  was  well  known  to  many  deep-water  skip- 

42 


Off  the  Horn 


pers,  and  at  one  time  had  possessed  extreme  beauty. 
Her  early  history  no  one  knew,  but  since  she  had 
taken  to  the  sea  she  had  endeavored  to  make  up  for 
this  deficiency  by  creating  enough  for  several  women. 

Plump  and  rosy  she  was  still,  and  much  thought 
of  by  all  with  whom  she  sailed.  Many  a  poor  sailor 
had  reason  to  thank  Moll,  as  she  was  called,  for  the 
tidbits  she  brought  forward  from  the  cabin  mess, 
for  often  a  few  meals  of  good  food  did  much  to  save 
a  man  from  the  horrible  scurvy  which  for  years  has 
been  the  curse  of  the  deep-water  fleet. 

Whatever  faults  the  woman  had,  she  also  had 
good  qualities  in  abundance. 

It  was  a  strange  scene  there  in  the  cabin  when 
Gonzales  was  brought  before  the  captain.  The 
twelve  sailors  shuffled  about  uneasily  as  they  stood 
against  the  cabin  bulkhead,  while  Enoch  Moss  sat  at 
the  head  of  the  table  with  his  charts  and  instruments 
before  him.  On  one  side  stood  the  condemned 
man,  who  was  to  be  tried  again,  so  that  the  skipper's 
oath  to  maroon  him  would  be  more  than  a  sudden 
condemnation.  It  would  have  the  backing  of  twelve 
honest  sailors  in  case  of  further  developments.  That 
the  twelve  honest  sailors  would  agree  with  the  cap- 
tain was  evident  by  the  respectful  attitude  in  which 
they  stood,  and  the  uneasy  and  fearful  glances  they 
cast  at  him  across  the  cabin  table.  O'Toole  stood 
in  the  cabin  door,  and  behind  him,  looking  over  his 
shoulder,  stood  Moll. 

Enoch  Moss  looked  up  at  the  man  before  him 
and  spoke  in  his  deep,  hoarse  voice. 

43 


The  Wind-jammers 


"You  have  fought  four  times  since  you've  been 
aboard,"  said  he  ;  "  the  last  time  you  broke  out  your 
irons  and  nearly  killed  Davis,  and  I  promised  to 
maroon  you.  I'll  do  it  before  night."  Then  he 
turned  to  the  men,  "  We  have  tried  to  keep  this 
fellow  in  irons  and  he  breaks  out.  He  has  cut  three 
of  you.  Do  you  agree  with  me  that  it  is  best  to  put 
him  ashore  before  further  trouble,  or  not?" 

"Yes,  sir,  put  him  on  the  beach,"  came  a  hoarse 
answer  from  the  men  that  made  O'Toole  smile. 

"Got  anything  to  say  before  you  go?"  asked  the 
skipper. 

The  poor  fellow  looked  across  to  the  door  in  the 
bulkhead.  His  eyes  met  those  of  Moll,  and  he 
gazed  longingly  at  her  a  moment  while  a  look  of 
peculiar  tenderness  spread  over  his  coarse,  fierce 
face.  Then  he  looked  at  a  seam  in  the  cabin  floor 
for  an  instant  and  appeared  to  be  thinking. 

"Well,  speak  up,"  growled  Enoch  Moss. 

"Yo  no  hablo  Americano.  Yo  no  understand. 
No,  I  say  nothin'  ;  yes,  I  say  thank  you."  And  he 
looked  the  skipper  squarely  in  the  face. 

"  You  can  take  him  forward,"  said  Enoch  Moss. 

As  they  filed  out  again  into  the  cold  and  wet, 
Moll  watched  them,  and  after  they  had  gone  the 
skipper  called  her. 

"  Do  you  know  Gonzales  or  Davis  ?"  said  he. 

"Never  saw  either  of  them  before  they  came 
aboard  this  ship,"  she  answered  in  a  steady  voice. 

The  captain  looked  long  and  searchingly  at  the 
woman  before  him.  She  met  his  gaze  fairly  for 

44 


Off  the  Horn 

the  space  of  a  minute ;  then  her  lip  trembled 
slightly. 

"  That  will  do.  You  may  go,"  said  he,  and  his 
voice  had  a  peculiar  sadness  that  few  people  had  ever 
heard. 

O'Toole's  step  sounded  on  the  deck  overhead, 
and,  as  the  stewardess  went  forward  into  the  main 
cabin,  the  mate's  voice  sounded  down  the  com- 
panion-way. "It's  hauled  to  the  north'ard,  sir. 
Shall  I  let  her  come  as  high  as  sou' -sou' west, 
sir?" 

Enoch  Moss  sat  silent  at  the  table.  He  was  think- 
ing of  a  Spanish  crest  he  had  seen  tattooed  on  the 
white  arm  of  the  stewardess.  It  belonged  to  her 
"family,"  she  had  told  him,  and  was  tattooed  there 
when  she  was  a  child  of  sixteen. 

"  Yes,  let  her  head  up  to  the  southwest,  and  call 
me  when  we  get  in  close  enough  to  lower  a  boat," 
he  replied. 

Before  dark  they  were  as  close  in  as  they  dared  to 
go,  much  closer  than  one  skipper  out  of  ten  would 
take  his  ship,  even  in  calm  weather.  Then  a  boat 
was  lowered  and  Gonzales  was  put  into  it  with  enough 
to  eat  to  last  him  a  month.  Garnett  and  two  sailors 
jumped  in,  and  all  was  ready. 

The  skipper  stood  at  the  break  of  the  poop,  and 
beside  him  stood  O'Toole. 

"Ye  better  not  cast  th'  raskil  adrift  till  ye  get 
ashore,"  said  the  mate,  "for  by  th'  faith  av  th' 
howly  saints,  'twill  be  himself  that  will  be  for  coming 
aboard  an'  laving  ye  to  hunt  a  route  from  th'  Cape." 

45 


The  Wind-Jammers 


"Trust  me  to  see  the  pirit  landed  safely,"  replied 
Garnett  "I've  handled  men  before." 

A  female  head  appeared  at  the  door  of  the  forward 
cabin  just  beneath  the  skipper's  feet.  He  looked 
down  at  it  unnoticed  for  a  moment.  Then  he  spoke 
in  a  low  voice,  moving  away  from  O'Toole,  so  he 
could  not  hear, — 

"Would  you  like  to  go  with  him?" 

Moll  started  as  if  shot.  Then  she  looked  up  at 
the  captain  with  a  face  pale  and  drawn  into  a  ghastly 
smile.  She  gave  a  hard  laugh,  and  walked  out  on 
the  main-deck  and  looked  at  the  boat  as  the  oars  fell 
across.  The  condemned  man  looked  up,  and  his 
eyes  met  hers,  but  she  rested  her  arms  on  the  bul- 
warks and  gazed  steadily  at  him  over  the  top-gallant- 
rail  until  he  went  slowly  out  of  sight 

Two  hours  later  Garnett  and  the  men  returned 
with  the  empty  boat. 

The  ship  was  headed  away  to  the  southwest,  and 
the  struggle  to  turn  the  corner  began  with  one  man 
less  in  the  port-watch. 

In  the  dog-watch  Garnett  met  O'Toole  on  the 
main-deck. 

"We  landed  him  right  enough,"  he  said,  "for  we 
just  put  him  ashore,  and  then  only  cast  off  his  hands, 
so  we  could  get  into  the  boat  afore  he  could  walk. 
But  what  seemed  almighty  queer  was  his  asking  me 
to  give  the  skipper's  stewardess  that  ring.  Do  you 
suppose  they  was  ever  married  or  knowed  each  other 
afore?" 

"  I  don't  suppose  nothin',  Garnett ;  but  you  better 
46 


Off  the  Horn 


give  her  the  ring.  Davis  is  a  good  enough  man,  but 
one  man  don't  try  to  kill  another,  so  strong,  for 
nothin.'  Better  give  her  the  ring — and  you  want  to 
git  that  chafing-gear  on  the  fore-royal-backstay  a  little 
higher  up  ;  it's  cuttin'  through  against  the  yard." 

The  following  night  at  two  bells  the  wind  began 
to  come  in  puffs,  and  in  less  than  half  an  hour  after- 
wards it  was  snorting  away  in  true  Cape  Horn  style. 

It  was  Garnett's  watch  on  deck  at  midnight,  and 
as  he  came  on  the  poop  he  saw  there  was  to  be  some 
discomfort.  Each  rope  of  the  standing  and  running 
rigging,  shroud  and  backstay,  downhaul  and  clew- 
line, was  piping  away  with  a  lively  note,  and  the 
deep,  smothered,  booming  roar  overhead  told  how 
the  ship  stood  to  it  and  that  the  canvas  was  holding. 
The  three  lower  storm-topsails  and  the  main  spencer 
were  all  the  sails  set,  and  for  a  while  the  ship  stood 
up  to  it  in  good  shape.  At  ten  minutes  past  three 
in  the  morning  she  shipped  a  sea  that  smothered  her. 
With  a  rush  and  thundering  shock  a  hundred  tons 
of  water  washed  over  her.  The  ship  was  knocked 
off  into  the  trough  of  the  sea,  and  hove  down  on 
her  beam  ends.  The  water  poured  down  her  hatch 
openings  in  immense  volumes  ;  the  main-hatch,  being 
a  "  booby, "  was  smashed  ;  and  all  hands  were  called 
to  save  ship. 

O'Toole  and  his  watch  managed  to  get  the  mizzen- 
trysail  on  her  while  Garnett  got  the  clew  of  the  fore- 
top-sail  on  the  yard  without  bursting  it.  Then  the 
vessel  gradually  headed  up  again  to  the  enormous 
sea. 

47 


The  Wind-jammers 


The  ship  sagged  off  to  leeward  all  the  next  day 
and  was  driven  far  below  the  latitude  of  the  Cape ; 
then,  as  she  gradually  cleared  the  storm  belt,  the 
wind  slacked  and  top-gallant-sails  were  put  on  her  to 
drive  her  back  again. 

Five  times  did  she  get  to  the  westward  of  the 
Cape,  only  to  be  driven  back  again  by  gales  of  pe- 
culiar violence.  She  lost  three  sets  of  topsails,  two 
staysails,  a  mizzen-trysail,  besides  a  dozen  or  more 
pieces  of  lighter  canvas,  before  the  first  day  of 
August. 

Part  of  this  day  she  was  in  company  with  the 
large  ship  Shenandoah,  but  as  the  wind  was  light 
she  drew  away,  for  in  that  high  rolling  sea  it  is  very- 
dangerous  for  one  ship  to  get  close  to  another,  as  a 
sudden  calm  might  bring  them  in  contact,  which 
would  prove  fatal  to  one  or  both. 

The  night  was  bitter  cold.  The  canvas  rolled  on 
the  yards  was  as  hard  as  iron,  and  that  which  was  set 
was  as  stiff  to  handle  as  sheet  tin.  Old  Dan,  the  quar- 
termaster, and  Sadg  Bilkidg,  the  African  sailor,  were 
at  the  wheel ;  the  quartermaster  swathed  in  a  scarf 
and  muffled  up  to  the  chin,  with  his  long,  hooked 
nose  sticking  forward,  looked  as  watchful  as — and 
not  unlike — the  great  albatross  that  soared  silently 
in  the  wake. 

A  giant  sea  began  rolling  in  from  the  southwest 
and  the  wind  followed  suddenly  The  foretop-sail 
went  out  of  the  bolt-ropes,  and,  as  the  ship  was  to 
the  westward  of  Tierra  del  Fuego  and  the  wind  blow- 
ing her  almost  dead  on  it,  she  was  hove-to  with 

48 


Off  the  Horn 


great  difficulty.  After  a  terrible  night  the  wind 
hauled  a  little.  Not  much,  but  enough  to  throw 
her  head  a  couple  of  points  and  let  the  sea  come 
over  her. 

A  huge  mass  of  water  fell  on  deck  and  washed  a 
man,  named  Johnson,  overboard.  He  was  one  of 
Davis' s  friends,  and  had  been  cut  by  Gonzales.  He 
remained  within  ten  fathoms  of  the  plunging  ship 
for  fully  five  minutes,  but  nothing  could  be  done  for 
him.- 

Three  days  passed  before  the  gale  eased  and 
swung  to  the  southward,  and  the  high  land  of  Tierra 
del  Fuego  was  then  in  plain  sight  under  the  lee. 

The  man  Davis  was  dead,  and  he  was  dropped 
overboard  as  soon  as  the  gale  slacked  enough  to 
permit  walking  on  the  main-deck.  Sail  was  made, 
in  spite  of  the  heavy  sea,  and  the  ship  headed  away 
to  the  northward,  at  last,  with  a  crew  almost  dead 
from  exposure.  Everything  was  put  on  forward, 
starting  at  a  reefed  foresail,  until  finally  on  the  second 
day  she  was  tearing  along  under  a  maintop-gallant- 
sail. 

The  well  was  then  sounded,  and  it  was  found  she 
was  making  water  so  fast  that  the  pumps  could  just 
keep  her  afloat.  Six  days  after  this  she  came  log- 
ging into  Valparaiso  with  her  decks  almost  awash. 
A  tug  came  alongside  and  relieved  a  crew  of  men  who 
looked  more  like  a  set  of  swollen  corpses  than  any- 
thing else.  Men  with  arms  blue  and  puffed  to 
bursting  from  the  steady  work  at  the  pump-brakes, 
their  jaws  set  and  faces  seamed  and  lined  with  the 
*  49 


The  Wind-jammers 


strain,  dropped  where  they  stood  beside  the  welling 
pump-lead  upon  the  deck. 

They  had  weathered  the  Cape  and  saved  the  ship 
with  her  cargo  of  railroad  iron,  for  they  had  stood  to 
it,  and  steam  took  the  place  of  brawn  just  as  the  water 
began  lapping  around  the  hatch  combings.  O'Toole 
approached  Garnett  as  they  started  to  turn  in  for  a 
rest  after  the  fracas. 

"There's  a  curse  aboard  us,  Garnett.  Come 
here  !"  said  the  mate.  He  led  the  way  into  the  cabin, 
and  pointed  to  the  open  door  of  the  stewardess's 
room. 

"  It's  a  good  thing  to  be  a  woman,"  growled  Gar- 
nett. "Just  think  of  a  man  being  able  to  turn  in 
and  sleep  peaceful-like  that  way,  hey  ?  Stave  me, 
but  I'd  like  to  turn  in  for  a  week  and  sleep  like 
that,"  and  he  looked  at  the  quiet  form  in  the  bunk. 

"  Maybe  it  is,  maybe  it  isn't  a  good  thing  to  be  a 
woman,"  said  O'Toole,  quietly.  "  Faith,  it  may  be  a 
good  thing  to  be  woman,  but  as  for  me,  I'll  take  me 
place  as  a  man,  an'  no  begrudgin'.  Moll  is  dead, 
man, — been  dead  for  two  days  gone.  The  owld  man 
ain't  said  nothin',  for  he  wanted  to  bring  her  ashore, 
dacent  an'  quiet  like.  She  bruk  into  th'  medicin'- 
chist  off  th'  Straits." 

Garnett  removed  his  cap,  and  wiped  the  dent  in 
the  top  of  his  bald  head. 

"Ye  don't  say!"  he  said,  slowly.  Then  he  was 
silent  a  moment  while  they  both  looked  into  the 
room.  Garnett  put  up  his  handkerchief  and  rubbed 
his  head  again. 


Off  the  Horn 


"It  was  so,  then,  hey?"  he  said.  "An'  Davis  was 
the  man  what  broke  'em  up.  Too  bad,  too  bad  !" 

"By  th'  look  av  th'  matter,  it  must  ha*  been. 
Yes,  'pon  me  whurd,  for  a  fact,  it  must  ha'  been." 

The  captain's  step  sounded  in  the  after-cabin,  and 
the  mates  went  forward  to  their  bunks. 


THE    BLACK    CREW    OF 
COOPER'S  HOLE 

TO  the  southward  of  Cape  Horn,  a  hundred 
leagues  distant  across  the  Antarctic  Ocean, 
lie  the  South  Orkneys.  Sailors  seldom 
see  these  strange  islands  more  than  once.  Those 
who  do  see  them  are  not  always  glad  of  it  afterwards, 
for  they  usually  have  done  so  with  storm  topsails 
straining  away  at  the  clews  and  the  deep  roar  of  a 
hurricane  making  chaos  of  sound  on  the  ship's  deck. 
Then  those  on  watch  have  seen  the  drift  break  away 
to  leeward  for  a  few  moments,  and  there,  rising  like 
some  huge,  dark  monster  from  the  wild  southern 
ocean,  the  iron-hard  cliffs  appear  to  warn  the  Cape 
Horner  that  his  time  has  come.  If  they  are  a  lucky 
crew  and  go  clear,  they  may  live  to  tell  of  those 
black  rocks  rising  to  meet  the  leaden  sky.  If  they 
are  too  close  to  wear  ship  and  make  a  slant  for  it, 
then  there  is  certain  to  be  an  overdue  vessel  at  some 
port,  and  they  go  to  join  the  crews  of  missing  ships. 
The  South  Orkney  ledges  tell  no  tales,  for  a  ship 
striking  upon  them  with  the  lift  of  the  Cape  Horn 
sea  will  grind  up  like  a  grain  of  coffee  in  a  mill. 

In  the  largest  of  these  grim  rocks  is  a  gigantic 
cleft  with  walls  rising  a  sheer  hundred  fathoms  on 
either  side.  The  cleft  is  only  a  few  fathoms  across, 
and  lets  into  the  rocky  wall  until  suddenly  it  opens 
again  into  a  large,  quiet,  land-locked  harbor.  This 


The  Black  Crew  of  Cooper's  Hole 

is  the  Great  Hole  of  the  Orkneys.  On  all  sides  of 
this  extinct  volcanic  crater  rise  the  walls,  showing 
marks  of  eruptions  in  past  ages,  and  a  lead-line 
dropped  at  any  point  in  the  water  of  the  hole  will 
show  no  bottom  at  a  hundred  fathoms. 

Since  the  days  of  Drake  and  Frobisher  the  hole 
has  been  visited  at  long  intervals,  but  it  is  safe  to 
say  that  not  more  than  six  white  men  have  visited  it 
since  Cook's  Antarctic  voyage.  To  get  in  and  out  of 
the  passage  safely  requires  a  knowledge  of  the  cur- 
rents of  the  locality,  and  the  heavy  sea  that  bursts 
into  a  churning  caldron  of  roaring  white  smother  on 
each  side  of  the  entrance  would  make  the  most 
daring  sailor  hesitate  before  sending  even  a  wThale- 
boat  through  those  grinding  ledges  into  the  dark  pas- 
sage beyond. 

To  the  eastward  of  the  Horn,  all  along  the  coast 
of  Tierra  del  Fuego,  the  fur  seals  are  plentiful.  At 
the  Falklands  many  men  of  the  colony  hunt  them 
for  their  pelts.  The  schooners  formerly  used  in  this 
trade  were  small  vessels,  ranging  from  sixty  to  a  hun- 
dred tons,  and  the  crews  were  usually  a  mixture  of 
English  and  native. 

After  working  along  the  southern  shore  of  Tierra 
del  Fuego  they  often  went  as  far  north  as  the  forty- 
fifth  parallel.  They  then  used  to  rendezvous  at  the 
coaling  station  in  the  Straits  of  Magellan,  sell  out 
their  catch,  and  afterwards,  with  enough  supplies  to 
carry  them  home,  they  would  clear  for  the  Falklands 
or  the  West  Coast. 

A  rough,  savage  lot  were  these  sealing  crews,  but 
53 


The  Wind-jammers 


they  were  well  equipped  with  rifles  of  the  best  make 
and  unlimited  numbers  of  cartridges.  Sometimes 
they  carried  a  whale-gun  forward  and  took  chances 
with  it  at  the  great  fin-backs  for  a  few  tons  of  bone. 
These  cannon  threw  a  heavy  exploding  harpoon 
which  both  killed  and  secured  the  whale  if  struck  in 
a  vital  part. 

The  largest  schooner  of  the  Falkland  fleet,  the 
Lord  Hawke,  was  lying  off  the  coaling  station, 
one  day,  sending  ashore  her  pelts  for  shipment  to 
Liverpool.  Her  skipper,  John  Nelson,  was  keeping 
tally  of  the  load  upon  a  piece  of  board  with  the 
bullet  end  of  a  long  rifle  cartridge.  Two  other  ves- 
sels were  anchored  in  the  channel,  already  dis- 
charged, and  their  crews  were  either  getting  ready 
to  put  to  sea  or  lounging  about  the  station.  John 
Nelson  suddenly  looked  up  from  his  tally  and  saw  a 
strange  figure  standing  outlined  against  the  sky  upon 
a  jagged  spur  of  rock  about  half  a  mile  distant  on 
the  other  side  of  the  Strait.  The  natives  to  the 
southward  of  the  Strait  are  very  fierce  and  dan- 
gerous, so  Nelson  swore  at  a  sailor  passing  a  hide 
and  bade  him  "  avast."  Then  he  took  up  his  glass 
and  examined  the  figure  closely. 

It  appeared  to  be  that  of  a  white  man  clothed  in 
skins,  carrying  either  a  staff  or  gun,  upon  which  he 
leaned. 

"  There  are  no  men  from  the  schooner  ashore  over 
there;  hey,  Watkins?"  said  Nelson. 

"  Naw,"  said  his  mate,  looking  at  the  solitary  fig- 
ure. "  It's  one  of  those  cannibals  from  the  s'uth'ard." 

54 


The  Black  Crew  of  Cooper's  Hole 

"  Pass  me  a  rifle,"  said  the  skipper. 

The  mate  did  so,  and  Nelson  slipped  in  the  car- 
tridge he  had  been  using  for  a  pencil. 

"  Now  stand  by  and  see  the  critter  jump,"  said 
he,  and  his  crew  of  six  Fuegians  stopped  shifting 
hides  and  waited. 

John  Nelson  was  an  Englishman  of  steady  nerves, 
but  he  rested  his  rifle  carefully  against  the  topmost 
backstay  and  drew  the  sights  fine  upon  the  man  on 
the  rock. 

It  was  a  useless  act  of  brutality,  but  John  Nelson 
was  a  fierce  butcher,  and  the  killing  of  countless 
seals  had  hardened  him.  A  man  who  kills  a  help- 
less seal  when  the  poor  creature  raises  its  eyes  with 
an  imploring  half-human  appeal  for  mercy  will  de- 
velop into  a  vicious  butcher  if  he  does  it  often. 

The  picture  on  the  schooner's  deck  was  not 
very  pleasant.  Nelson,  with  his  hard,  bronzed  face 
pressed  to  the  rifle-stock,  and  his  gleaming  eye  look- 
ing along  the  sights  at  the  object  four  hundred 
fathoms  distant  It  was  a  long  shot,  but  the  cold 
gray  twilight  of  the  Antarctic  spring-time  made  the 
mark  loom  strangely  distinct  against  the  lowering 
evening  sky. 

There  was  a  sharp  report  and  all  hands  looked  at 
the  figure.  Nelson  lowered  his  rifle  and  peered 
through  the  spurt  of  smoke.  The  man  on  the  rock 
gave  a  spring  to  one  side,  then  he  waved  his  hand  at 
the  schooner  and  disappeared. 

"Bloody  good  shot,  that,"  said  John  Nelson, 
handing  Watkins  the  rifle.  "  That's  one  for  the  crew 

55 


The  Wind-jammers 


of  the  Golden  Arrow.  I  guess  that  fellow  won't 
care  so  much  about  eating  sailors  as  he  did  when 
those  poor  devils  went  ashore  to  the  s'uth'ard  last 
year." 

"Think  you  hit  him,  for  sure?"  asked  the  mate. 

"  Didn't  you  see  him  jump  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Watkins.  "  Here,  Sam,  go  ahead 
with  the  skins.  Take  that  pelt — damn  !"  As  he 
spoke  the  faint  crack  of  a  rifle  sounded  and  Nelson 
saw  his  mate  clutch  his  leg. 

"  Nipped  you,  by  thunder  !  Now  where  in  the 
name  of  Davy  Jones  did  that  fellow  get  a  gun  ?  Blow 
me,  but  things  are  coming  to  a  pretty  pass  when  a 
vessel  can't  unload  in  this  blooming  Strait  without 
somebody  getting  shot  I'd  lay  ten  to  one  it  was 
that  Dago  the  Silver  Sea  marooned  last  year." 

Watkins  was  not  badly  hurt,  however,  and  after 
the  cut  in  his  leg  was  tied  up  he  sat  about  the  deck 
and  cursed  at  the  way  the  British  government  al- 
lowed its  stations  to  be  open  to  the  attacks  of  sav- 
ages. The  station  was  not  well  fortified,  but  the  few 
men  there  had  had  little  trouble,  and  the  block-house 
of  wood  and  stone  was  found  to  be  sufficient  shelter. 
There  was  little  for  the  natives  to  steal  save  coal,  so 
they  were  left  alone.  When  a  few  straggling  Fue- 
gians  crossed  the  Strait,  as  they  sometimes  did, 
they  were  peaceful  enough,  and  only  traded  in  skins 
and  rum.  Fire-arms  they  never  used  and  did  not 
care  for. 

After  the  last  boat-load  of  hides  was  sent  ashore 
from  the  Hawke,  the  crew  went  below  and  began 

56 


The  Black  Crew  of  Cooper's  Hole 

to  trim  the  vessel's  stores  for  getting  under  way. 
They  would  start  for  the  Falklands  at  daylight. 

It  was  late  when  the  lookout  was  set  and  all  hands 
off  watch  had  turned  in. 

Nelson  and  his  mate,  Watkins,  were  sleeping  in 
the  cabin  to  starboard  while  the  harpooner  and  a 
half-breed  hunter  occupied  the  port  bunks.  The  fire 
burned  low  in  the  small  stove  and  the  cabin  was  dark. 

About  three  in  the  morning  several  canoes  shot 
out  from  the  southern  shore  of  the  Strait  and  headed 
rapidly  towards  the  Lord  Hawke.  It  was  getting 
light  in  the  east  and  the  man  on  the  lookout  could 
make  out  the  grim  monument  of  Admiral  Drake's, 
where  that  truculent  commander  had  once  swung 
off  a  mutineer  into  eternity.  The  man  on  the  look- 
out struck  off  six  bells  and  then  went  below  to  get 
a  pipe  of  tobacco. 

When  he  came  on  deck,  five  minutes  later,  he  was 
astonished  to  meet  twenty  gigantic  Patagonians  clad 
in  skins,  who  were  being  led  towards  the  hatchway 
by  a  dark-faced,  heavy  built  Spaniard. 

"  Hace  bien  tiempo  quel  a  manana"  observed  the 
leader,  nodding  and  smiling  pleasantly. 

"What  the " 

But  before  he  could  finish,  a  savage  struck  him  a 
blow  on  the  head  with  a  club,  and  that  ended  his 
interest  in  things  of  this  world.  He  was  quickly 
knifed  and  dropped  overboard.  Then  the  Spaniard 
led  the  way  aft.  Nelson  and  his  comrades  awoke  to 
find  a  couple  of  black  giants  bending  over  each  of 
them.  Before  they  could  offer  any  resistance  the 

57 


The  Wind-jammers 


knives  and  clubs  of  the  black  crew  had  put  an  end 
to  any  possible  discussion.  There  was  an  outcry, 
but  even  the  skipper's  single  fierce  yell  was  not 
heard  by  the  men  on  the  other  vessels.  The 
leader  grasped  Nelson  by  the  throat  while  four  natives 
held  his  arms  and  legs. 

"  You  shot  at  me  yesterday,"  said  the  Spaniard. 

"I  didn't  know  you  were  a  white  man.  Who  are 
you  ?"  gasped  Nelson,  in  a  strangling  whisper. 

"Gretto  Gonzales." 

"The  man  whose  wife  was  stewardess  on  the 
Silver  Sea — you  were  marooned  for  killing  the  man 
who  ran  off  with  her?" 

"  How  you  hear?" 

"  Saw  it  in  last  year's  newspaper — let  go  of  my 
throat Ah  !" 

It  was  all  over,  and  the  crew  of  the  sealing 
schooner  were  dropped  overboard.  The  men  at  the 
station  were  astonished  to  find  the  Lord  Hawke 
standing  out  to  sea  so  early  in  the  morning  without 
settling  for  the  trade  at  the  company's  store.  A  few 
weeks  later  the  crews  of  the  other  Falkland  schooners 
were  more  astonished  to  find  that  the  Lord  Hawke 
had  not  returned  to  the  islands.  At  the  end  of  two 
months  John  Nelson  and  his  crew  were  given  up  for 
lost,  for  the  Hawke  was  seen  no  more  in  the  sealing 
fleet  Gretto  Gonzales,  the  Spaniard,  held  her  head 
straight  for  the  South  Orkneys  and  ran  her  through 
the  entrance  of  the  Great  Hole.  Once  safe  inside, 
he  built  huts  of  stone  for  his  stores,  and  then  stood 
to  sea  again  to  meet  the  Cape  Horn  fleet 

5* 


The  Black  Crew  of  Cooper's  Hole 

As  he  had  by  some  means — previous  to  the  taking 
of  the  Hawke — heard  of  the  death  of  Davis  from  the 
wounds  he  had  given  him  in  the  fight  on  the  Silver 
Sea,  he  was  afraid  to  set  foot  in  one  of  the  Strait 
stations.  Captain  Enoch  Moss  had  marooned  him 
two  years  ago  for  his  savage  conduct  aboard  his  ship, 
and  since  then  he  had  become  a  chief  among  the 
fierce  eastern  natives.  These  savages  were  large  and 
active,  and  unlike  the  hopeless  Fuegians  of  Smith's 
Channel.  His  life,  like  theirs,  was  wild  and  restless, 
but  it  was  unbearable  for  its  monotony,  so  he  had 
picked  his  crew  and  determined  on  this  wild  plan  of 
piracy.  His  thoughts  also  appear  to  have  been  often 
with  his  wife,  whom  he  believed  to  be  alive,  for  many 
of  his  actions  point  that  this  was  his  chief  motive  in 
holding  up  the  vessels  of  the  Cape  Horn  fleet. 

The  first  vessel  he  sighted  was  the  Norwegian 
bark  Erik,  and  he  boarded  her  in  his  whale-boat 
during  a  calm.  She  was  reported  as  missing. 

The  next  vessel  was  the  large  ship  James  Burk, 
of  San  Francisco.  He  fought  her,  and  followed  her 
for  nearly  ten  days,  and  finally  took  her  abreast  of 
the  Ramirez  after  having  shot  half  her  crew  from  his 
own  deck.  She  was  also  added  to  the  list  of  missing 
ships  and  no  one  in  the  civilized  world  was  the  wiser. 

For  over  a  year  and  a  half  Gonzales  held  up  ves- 
sels of  all  kinds,  and  not  a  soul  escaped  to  tell  a 
tale.  How  many  ships,  still  overdue,  were  taken  by 
him  no  one  will  ever  know,  but  it  is  safe  to  say  they 
were  many.  His  storehouses  at  the  Orkneys  were 
filled  with  enough  material  to  supply  a  colony. 

59 


The  Wind-jammers 


After  taking  enough  supplies  to  last  him  for  years, 
Gonzales  ceased  to  attack  vessels.  This  was  proved 
in  the  case  of  the  Sentinel,  whose  skipper  reported 
a  fast,  black  sealing  schooner,  without  a  name,  manned 
by  a  crew  of  Patagonians,  having  spoken  him  in 
south  latitude  50°,  west  longitude  96°  35'.  The 
skipper  of  the  sealing  vessel  came  aboard  and  asked 
the  captain  of  the  Sentinel  to  sell  him  Remington 
45-90  cartridges  for  sealing.  After  this  he  asked  to 
see  all  the  passengers,  and  insisted  on  talking  for 
some  time  to  the  stewardess.  Then  he  left  in  his 
boat,  calling  out  a  farewell  in  Spanish. 

The  English  ship  Porpoise,  a  few  months  later,  re- 
ported the  same  strange  sealer  off  Juan  Fernandez. 
He  came  aboard  with  a  dozen  of  his  giant  crew,  and 
asked  for  rifle  cartridges.  He  also  held  a  long  con- 
versation about  the  different  vessels  in  the  Cape 
Horn  trade,  and  asked  many  questions  in  regard  to 
their  skippers  and  after  guards. 

"  I  haf  a  wife  ;  she  runs  away  on  ship, — I  look  for 
her,"  said  he  to  the  captain  of  the  Porpoise. 

"  Hope  you  will  find  her, "  said  the  Englishman, 
with  a  sneering  grin  and  a  glance  at  the  Spaniard's 
strange  dress. 

"  You  seem  amused,"  said  Gonzales. 

"I  am,"  replied  the  skipper,  laughing. 

"  Then  see  I  don't  kill  you,"  said  Gonzales,  and 
he  left  without  another  word. 

The  sealing  schooner  was  within  fifty  fathoms  of 
the  ship,  and  after  Gonzales  went  back  aboard  the 
captain  watched  him.  As  he  looked,  he  saw  the 

60 


The  Black  Crew  of  Cooper's  Hole 

Spaniard  raise  a  gun  to  his  shoulder  and  the  smoke 
spurt  forth.  At  the  same  instant  a  bullet  tore  its 
way  through  the  taffrail,  within  an  inch  of  his  waist. 

"Sink  him,  if  his  wife  hasn't  driven  him  mad," 
cried  the  captain,  as  he  dived  below. 

Five  other  vessels  reported  meeting  this  strange 
sealer  before  the  year  was  out,  and  each  told  of 
a  somewhat  similar  experience  in  regard  to  the 
stranger's  inquiries.  As  sealers  seldom  speak  deep- 
water  ships,  this  was  thought  strange,  and  when 
Enoch  Moss,  of  the  Yankee  clipper  Silver  Sea,  read 
the  latest  account  at  Havre,  he  called  his  first  mate, 
Mr.  OToole,  into  the  after  cabin. 

"  Have  you  read  the  Marine  Journal?"  said  he, 
looking  up  at  the  big  red-headed  Irishman. 

"  No,  sir  ;  how  is  it  now  ?" 

"  Read  that,  and  tell  me  what  you  make  of  it." 

O'Toole  looked  hard  at  the  page  for  some  mo- 
ments, and  then  replied, — 

"Ton  me  whurd,  for  a  fact,  it's  him,  Gonzales, 
th'  very  man  we  marooned  off  th'  Cape  for  knifin' 
Davis.  Now,  what  in  th'  name  av  th'  saints  is  he 
doin'  aboard  a  sealer  with  a  native  crew?  He  don't 
know  poor  Moll  is  dead,  for  sure,  but  he's  heard  av 
th'  man  he  knifed." 

"Maybe  he  will  visit  us  to  the  s'uth'ard,"  said 
Enoch  Moss. 

"  In  that  case,  'twill  be  as  well  to  have  a  few  rifles 
aboard,  for  a  fact.  Shall  I  see  to  it?" 

"Yes  ;  we  clear  to-morrow  at  noon." 

And  O'Toole  went  forward. 
61 


The  Wind-jammers 


At  the  main-hatch  he  met  Garnett,  the  second 
mate,  and  he  asked, — 

"  D'ye  mind  Gonzales  ?  Th'  same  as  ye  put  off 
on  th'  rocks  av  Hermite  Isle?" 

"  The  Dago  who  killed  Davis  for  his  wife's  sake  ?" 

"Th'  same." 

"Well,  I  reckon  I  do,  but  what  of  him?  He 
won't  turn  up  as  long  as  there's  danger  of  swinging." 

"He's  sealin'  to  th'  s'uth'ard  av  th'  Cape,  an' 
speakin'  vessels  what  carry  stewardesses.  He  shot 
at  th'  skipper  av  th'  Porpoise  for  no  more  than  a 
joke." 

"Stave  me!  You  don't  mean  it  He's  looking 
for  Moll,  then.  Suppose  he  meets  us  ?" 

"Ton  me  whurd,  I  feel  sorry  for  ye  if  he  does, 
Garnett.  Ye  are  an  owld  villain,  an'  ye  haven't 
much  chance  if  he  sees  ye.  Now,  for  a  fact,  ye'll  be 
in  a  bad  way."  And  O'Toole  grinned  hopefully. 

"  Bah  !"  said  Garnett,  and  he  went  on  with  his 
work. 

Ten  weeks  later  the  Silver  Sea  raised  Cape  St 
John,  and  stood  away  for  the  Horn  under  top-gallant- 
sails.  It  was  mid-summer,  and  Christmas  day  was 
daylight  twenty  hours  out  of  the  twenty-four.  There 
was  little  difficulty  in  seeing  anything  that  might  rise 
above  the  horizon.  It  came  on  to  blow  very  hard 
from  the  northwest  during  the  day,  and  the  ship, 
being  quite  deep,  was  snugged  down  to  her  single 
lower  maintop-sail.  She  lay  to  on  the  starboard 
tack,  and  made  heavy  weather  of  the  high,  rolling 
sea. 

62 


The  Black  Crew  of  Cooper's  Hole 

"  'Tis  a  bad  spell  for  th'  'wind-jammers,'"  said 
O'Toole,  as  he  stood  under  the  lee  of  the  mizzen, 
where  he  had  just  come  to  relieve  Garnett. 

"  Divil  av  a  thing  have  we  sighted  but  a  blooming 
owld  penguin  this  blessed  week." 

"It's  a  most  ornery  live  sea  rolling,"  said  Garnett, 
removing  his  sou'wester,  and  mopping  the  dent  in 
the  top  of  his  bald  head.  "  I  wonder  how  that  Dago 
would  like  to  board  us  to-day  ?" 

"He  was  good  enough  sailor ;  but,  say,  Garnett, 
what  d'ye  make  av  that  white  t'  the  west'ard  ?  Ton 
me  whurd,  for  a  fact,  'tis  a  small  vessel  comin'  afore 
it." 

Garnett  looked  to  windward.  There,  coming  out 
of  the  thick  haze  of  the  flying  drift,  appeared  a 
small  black  schooner  running  before  the  storm,  with 
nothing  but  a  small  trysail  on  the  foremast.  She 
rode  the  giant  seas  like  an  albatross,  and  bore  down 
on  the  Silver  Sea  at  a  tremendous  pace.  Several 
figures  appeared  upon  her  dripping  deck,  and  several 
more  appeared  aft  at  her  helm.  The  white  foam 
dripped  from  her  black  sides  at  each  roll,  and  was 
flung  far  to  either  side  of  her  shearing  bows,  leaving 
a  broad,  white  road  on  the  following  sea  to  mark 
her  wake. 

From  the  time  O'Toole  first  saw  her  outlined 
against  the  blue  steel-colored  sky  through  the  flying 
spray  and  spume  drift  to  that  when  she  came  abreast 
the  Silver  Sea  was  but  a  few  minutes.  But  it  was 
long  enough  for  Garnett  to  call  the  skipper,  who 
came  on  deck  and  examined  her  through  his  glass. 

63 


The  Wind-jammers 


"  Gonzales  and  his  black  crew,  by  all  that's  holy," 
said  Enoch  Moss,  quietly. 

"Ton  me  whurd  it  is,  an'  he's  going  to  kape  us 
company.  Look  !"  said  O'Toole. 

As  he  spoke,  the  little  vessel  began  to  broach  to 
on  the  weather-beam.  As  she  bore  up  in  the  trough, 
a  tremendous  comber  struck  her  and  laid  her  flat  on 
her  beam  ends,  so  that  for  several  minutes  she  was 
quite  out  of  sight  in  the  smother.  Then  her  masts 
were  seen  to  rise  again  out  of  that  storm-torn  sea, 
and  she  was  taking  the  weight  of  it  forward  of  her 
starboard  beam.  It  was  an  interesting  sight  to  see 
that  little  craft  rise  like  a  live  thing  and  throw  her 
dripping  forefoot  high  in  the  air  until  her  keel  was 
visible  clear  back  to  her  foremast.  Great  splashes 
of  snowy  white  foam,  dripping  from  her  black  sides, 
were  blown  into  long  streamers  by  the  gale,  and 
everything  alow  and  aloft  glistened  with  salt  water. 
Then  she  would  descend  with  a  wild  plunge  and 
bury  herself  almost  out  of  sight  in  the  sea,  only  to 
rise  again  in  a  perfect  storm  of  flying  spray.  She 
was  heading  well  and  making  good  weather  of  it, 
half  a  mile  off  the  Silver  Sea's  weather-quarter. 

Enoch  Moss  watched  her  through  his  glass. 

"  It's  Gonzales,  and  he  has  a  gun.  I  reckon  he 
will  signal  us,"  said  he.  "  No,"  he  continued  ;  "  he 
has  raised  it  and  put  it  down  again.  Sink  him  ;  I 
believe  he  has  fired  at  us." 

There  was  no  report  heard  above  the  deep  boom- 
ing roar  of  the  gale,  but  instantly  after  the  skipper 
spoke  a  small  hole  appeared  in  the  maintop-sail 


The  Black  Crew  of  Cooper's  Hole 

The  hole  grew  in  size  every  moment  as  the  pressure 
of  the  gale  tore  the  parting  canvas.  Then,  with  a 
loud  crack,  the  sail  split  from  head  to  foot  and  began 
to  thrash  to  ribbons  from  the  yard. 

"  Stave  me,  but  he  has  the  range  of  us  all  right," 
said  Garnett,  and  the  next  instant  he  was  plunging 
forward  bawling  for  the  watch  to  lay  aft  and  secure 
the  remains  of  the  storm-topsail. 

" Shall  we  put  the  spencer  on  her?"  bawled 
O'Toole  to  the  skipper,  who  had  sprung  to  the 
wheel. 

"  No  use,"  roared  Enoch  Moss.  "  Trim  the  yards 
sharp  and  let  her  hold  on  the  best  she  can.  If  she 
pays  off  put  a  tarpaulin  in  the  mizzen." 

The  Silver  Sea  did  hold  her  head  up  to  the  sea 
without  any  canvas,  for  she  was  very  deep,  and  she 
sagged  off  to  leeward  less  than  the  Hawke. 

Enoch  Moss  went  below  and  came  on  deck  again 
with  a  Winchester  rifle.  Then  he  seated  himself 
comfortably  near  the  wheel  and  fired  cartridge  after 
cartridge  at  the  trysail  of  the  schooner.  After  half 
an  hour's  sport  there  was  nothing  to  indicate  that  his 
shots  had  taken  effect,  so  he  desisted.  All  Christmas 
day  the  vessels  were  within  sight  of  each  other  and 
towards  evening  the  wind  began  to  slack  up. 

Gonzales  was  first  to  take  advantage  of  the  lull. 
He  put  a  close-reefed  mainsail  on  his  little  vessel, 
and,  with  a  bonneted  jib  hoisted  high  above  the 
sea- washed  forecastle,  he  sent  the  Hawke  reaching 
through  it  like  mad. 

He  came  close  under  the  Silver  Sea's  lee-quarter, 
s  65 


The  Wind-jammers 


and  fired  his  whale-gun  slap  into  the  ship's  cabin. 
The  shell  burst  and  scattered  the  skipper's  charts  all 
over  the  deck  and  set  fire  to  the  bulkhead.  Then 
began  the  most  novel  fight  that  ever  occurred  on 
deep  water. 

Enoch  Moss,  O'Toole,  and  Garnett  kept  up  a  rapid 
fire  with  their  rifles  upon  the  schooner's  deck,  but, 
although  the  range  was  not  great,  the  motion  of  the 
plunging  vessels  made  it  almost  impossible  to  hit 
even  a  good-sized  mark.  Gonzales,  in  turn,  fired  his 
whale-gun  as  long  as  he  was  close  enough  to  use  it, 
and  he  made  the  splinters  fly  from  the  deck-house 
and  cabin.  Then  he  and  his  fellows  took  to  their 
sealing  rifles  and  kept  up  a  hot  fire  until  the  Hawke 
passed  ahead  out  of  range.  Three  times  did  the 
Spaniard  go  to  windward  and  run  down  on  the 
heavily  loaded  ship,  while  all  hands  worked  to  get 
canvas  on  her.  Finally,  when  the  Silver  Sea  hoisted 
topsails,  fore  and  aft,  she  began  to  drive  ahead  at 
a  reasonable  rate,  but  with  dangerous  force,  into 
the  heavy  sea.  Even  then  Gonzales  could  outpoint 
her,  and  had  no  difficulty  in  keeping  within  easy 
rifle  range.  From  there  he  kept  up  a  slow  but  steady 
fire  upon  everything  that  had  the  appearance  of  life 
on  the  Silver  Sea's  deck. 

Late  in  the  evening  it  was  still  quite  light,  and 
he  drew  closer.  A  huge  Patagonian  was  seen  upon 
the  schooner's  forecastle,  firing  slowly  and  carefully. 
Soon  after  this  a  sailor  was  struck  and  badly  injured. 
The  faint  crack  of  the  sealing  rifle  continued  to 
sound  at  regular  intervals,  and  Enoch  Moss  began 

66 


The  Black  Crew  of  Cooper's  Hole 

to  get  desperate.  He  stood  behind  the  mizzen, 
watching  the  Hawke  following  him  as  a  dog  follows 
a  boar. 

"This  can't  keep  up  forever,"  he  said  to  O'Toole. 
"  He'll  wear  us  out  before  we  make  port.  I  reckon 
we  might  as  well  stand  away  for  the  Falklands." 

"'Tis  no  use  ;  I  can't  hit  him,"  said  O'Toole,  jam- 
ming his  rifle  into  the  furled  spanker.  "Th'  men 
are  all  scared  half  mad,  an'  if  it  falls  calm  he'll  board 
us  certain  ;  'pon  me  whurd  he  will." 

"We  must  chance  it,  then,"  said  Enoch  Moss. 
"  Hoist  away  the  fore-  and  main-t' gallant-sails. 
We'll  run  for  it." 

In  ten  minutes  the  Silver  Sea  was  standing  away 
to  the  eastward,  with  half  a  gale  on  her  quarter. 
She  hoisted  sail  after  sail,  until  she  drove  along  fully 
twelve  knots  an  hour,  leaving  a  wide,  white  wake  into 
which  Gonzales  squared  away.  But  he  could  not 
overhaul  her.  He  shook  out  his  reefs  and  hoisted 
a  foresail,  burying  his  little  vessel's  head  in  a  wild 
smother  of  foam. 

Enoch  Moss  stood  aft  looking  at  him,  and,  as  his 
ship  flew  along  with  top-gallant-masts  bending  like 
whips,  his  spirits  rose. 

"He'll  spring  something  yet,  if  he  holds  on," 
he  cried  to  O'Toole  and  Garnett,  who  stood 
near. 

"Ton  me  whurd  he  will,"  said  the  mate. 

"Look  !"  bawled  Garnett. 

As  he  spoke,  a  huge  sea,  following  in  the  Span- 
iard's wake,  began  its  combing  rush.  It  struck 


The  Wind-jammers 


the  little  schooner  full  upon  her  weather-quarter, 
and  rolled  over  her  stern,  swinging  her  broadside  to. 
As  it  did  so  the  mainsail  caught  the  weight  of  the 
flying  crest,  and  the  mast  went  over  the  side.  The 
next  instant  it  carried  the  foremast  with  it.  Then 
the  Hawke  lay  a  complete  and  helpless  wreck  upon 
the  high,  rolling  seas  of  the  Horn. 

"We've  got  him,"  bawled  Enoch  Moss,  springing 
upon  the  poop.  "  Fore-  and  main-t' gallant-sails, 
quick  !"  And  the  mates  dashed  forward,  bawling 
for  all  hands  to  secure  the  canvas.  Jennings  and 
Bilkidg  stood  at  the  wheel,  and  steadied  the  heavy 
ship  as  she  came  on  the  wind,  and  the  way  she  tore 
along  gave  them  all  they  could  do. 

Everything  held,  and  they  were  soon  several  miles 
to  windward  of  the  Lord  Hawke.  Then  Enoch 
Moss  wore  ship,  and  stood  for  the  schooner  close 
hauled.  There  was  still  a  stiff  gale  blowing,  and  the 
heavy  ship  tore  her  way  through  the  high  sea  with  a 
lurch  and  tremble  that  bade  fair  to  take  her  top- 
masts out  of  her.  But  Enoch  Moss  held  on. 

"Point  her  head  for  him,"  he  bawled  to  the  men 
at  the  wheel.  "  Hold  her  tight  and  hit  him  fair  ; 
we'll  smash  him  under  this  time." 

Garnett  stood  on  the  forecastle-head  and  watched 
the  Spaniard  giving  directions  to  the  helmsmen  by 
waving  his  hands.  He  saw  a  dozen  or  more  natives 
launch  their  whale-boat  and  try  to  clear  the  schooner 
just  as  the  Silver  Sea  came  rushing  down  upon  them, 
with  a  roaring  waste  of  snowy  surge  under  her  fore- 
foot, fifty  fathoms  distant. 

68 


The  Black  Crew  of  Cooper's  Hole 

Gonzales  stood  on  the  schooner's  deck,  rifle  in 
hand,  and  he  fired  at  Enoch  Moss  as  the  Silver  Sea 
towered  over  his  doomed  vessel.  The  next  instant 
the  heavy  ship  rose  on  the  sea,  and,  with  her  great 
sloping  cut-water  storming  through  it  at  ten  knots 
an  hour,  swooped  downwards.  There  was  a  heavy 
jar  that  almost  knocked  Garnett  overboard,  but 
Enoch  Moss,  gripping  his  arm  where  the  rifle-shot 
had  passed  through,  rushed  to  the  side  and  peered 
over  in  time  to  see  the  forward  half  of  the  Lord 
Hawke  sink  from  view.  The  native  crew  barely  got 
clear,  and,  as  the  Silver  Sea  passed  on,  they  and 
their  boat  were  the  only  objects  left  floating  in  her 
wake. 

"Now  for  the  rest,"  roared  the  skipper,  smarting 
from  his  wound.  "  Stand  by  to  wear  ship." 

"  We'll  never  touch  them,"  saidO'Toole.  "They've 
picked  up  Gonzales  and  are  heading  dead  to  wind- 
ward, rowing  six  oars  double  banked." 

The  Silver  Sea  bore  up  again  to  the  northward, 
but  the  black  crew  of  the  Hawke  were  then  a  good 
mile  in  the  wind's  eye,  pulling  with  giant  strokes. 
She  wore  again  after  jamming  for  an  hour,  but  when 
she  crossed  their  wake  the  whale-boat  was  a  tiny 
speck  in  the  distance. 

"  'Tis  a  long  row  home  they'll  have,"  said  O'Toole, 
looking  after  them. 

"I  hope  the  old  man  won't  ship  any  more  pretty 
stewardesses,"  growled  Garnett. 

"Ton  me  whurd,  I  don't  belave  he  will." 

"Let  her   head  her  course,  west-nor'west,"  said 


The  Wind-jammers 


Enoch  Moss,  and  he  went  below  holding  his  bandaged 
arm. 

The  last  they  saw  of  Gonzales  and  his  crew  was 
the  tiny  speck  appearing  and  disappearing  upon  the 
high  rolling  seas  of  the  Pacific  Antarctic  Drift 


JOHNNIE 


AT  eight  bells,  after  the  dog-watch,  I  went  aft 
to  relieve  Gantline,  and  found  him  talking 
to  the  skipper.  It  isn't  good  ship  etiquette 
to  interrupt  a  superior  officer,  so  I  went  to  leeward 
along  the  poop  and  gained  the  wheel.  There  I 
waited  until  the  discussion  ended. 

Gantline  was  somewhat  excited  at  a  remark  made 
by  the  "old  man,"  and  was  holding  forth  in  ex- 
planation. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  he  ;  "  let  the  boys  come  aboard 
for'ard — through  the  hawse-pipe,  as  the  saying  is — 
not  in  the  cabin.  It's  the  little  devils  who  run 
away  and  ship  that  make  the  sailors.  They  take 
to  a  slush-pot  or  tar-bucket  as  if  there  was  honor 
in  getting  afoul  of  them.  All  the  stinks  of  the 
fo' castle,  all  the  hard  knocks,  bad  grub,  and  every 
mean  thing  that  happens  in  a  sailor's  life — and 
Lord  knows  there  are  lots  of  them — are  all  taken  as 
part  of  that  big  thing — agoing  to  sea.  I  know  you 
want  your  boys  to  sign  on,  regular  like.  You  say  it 
protects  them.  Maybe  it  does.  But  I  say,  give  me 
the  little  rascals  who  are  full  of  the  song  of  the 
thing.  Yes,  sir,  you  may  laugh,  but  that's  it.  They 
go  into  the  thing  different,  and  hard  knocks  ain't 
going  to  hurt  them  much. 

"  You  know  a  man  has  to  be  rough  on  deep  water. 
No  matter  how  easy  he  is,  sometimes  he  gets  a  hard 

71 


The  Wind-jammers 


crew,  and  he  must  know  how  to  handle  them  when 
the  time  comes." 

"  But  how  about  that  case  we  were  speaking  of?" 
said  the  skipper;  "there  was  the  investigation,  and 
some  of  the  men  gave  Jensen  a  pretty  rough  name, 
considering  he's  a  dead  man.  They  didn't  lay  any 
particular  blame  on  you." 

Gantline  was  somewhat  disturbed  in  mind,  and 
he  forthwith  went  to  leeward  and  spat  a  stream  of 
tobacco  juice  into  the  sea.  Then  he  came  back 
wiping  his  mouth  on  the  back  of  his  great,  horny 
hand,  his  face  wearing  a  thoughtful  look. 

"  You  see,  this  is  the  way  the  thing  was,"  said  he, 
stopping  and  throwing  one  leg  upon  the  rail  near 
where  the  skipper  sat. 

"That  little  fellow  came  aboard  while  we  were 
lying  at  the  dock  in  the  East  River.  He  was  a 
dirty,  ragged  little  rascal.  I  saw  him  sneak  over  the 
rail  and  dodge  behind  the  deck-house.  When  I 
collared  him  he  began  crying,  and  asked  me  not  to 
let  the  'cops'  get  him.  He  begged  so  hard  and 
seemed  so  thin  a  little  shaver  I  couldn't  see  him  run 
in,  so  I  let  him  down  in  the  forepeak,  and  he 
hid  behind  some  empty  harness-casks.  We  were 
going  out  the  next  day,  and  I  intended  to  see  him 
ashore  all  right  in  the  morning,  and  as  it  was  past 
six  bells  then  I  went  uptown  to  have  a  last  look 
about 

"Two  watchmen  stopped  me  and  asked  if  I  had 
seen  a  boy  come  aboard,  and  when  I  asked  what 
they  wanted  him  for  they  were  short  enough. 

72 


Johnnie 

"  No,  I  ain't  much  but  a  deep-water  mate,  but 
most  men  are  civil  enough  to  me." 

Captain  Green  smiled,  but  said  nothing. 

"A  mate  ain't  supposed  to  know  much,"  con- 
tinued Gantline,  not  liking  the  smile,  "  but  I  didn't 
have  to  stand  on  my  head  to  take  the  sun  the  first 
time  I  crossed  the  line,"  and  he  looked  meaningly 
at  the  skipper,  who  smoked  in  silence. 

"So  when  those  fellows  talked  short  and  big,  I 
just  told  them  to  hurry  up  to  the  place  they  were 
sure  to  fetch  up  in  some  day  and  went  on  uptown. 
You  know  what  a  sailor  is,  so  you  know  how  he 
spends  his  last  night  on  the  beach. 

"  I  got  aboard  in  the  morning  and  was  feeling 
pretty  blue.  After  sticking  my  head  in  a  pail  of  water 
I  came  on  deck  just  as  we  got  the  ward  to  clear.  In 
a  few  minutes  we  were  towing  out,  and  I  never 
thought  of  that  little  shaver  until  the  next  day. 
Then  Mr.  Jensen  dragged  him  aft  to  the  '  old  man' 
by  the  scruff  of  his  poor  little  neck. 

"  Crojack  was  feeling  blue  then,  and  he  didn't  want 
any  boys  aboard,  so  he  told  the  mate  to  flog  him 
and  turn  him  to  with  his  watch. 

"  The  poor  little  fellow  begged  hard  not  to  get  the 
rope's  end,  but  the  mate  wouldn't  listen. 

"  I  can't  say  I  was  against  lamming  him,  for  I  felt 
he  had  taken  advantage  of  me. 

"Jensen  went  too  far,  though,  and  we  came  near 
having  a  set-to  over  the  child  before  we  were  off 
soundings.  Johnnie  was  cast  loose  and  he  fell  down 
on  deck.  Then  old  Williams,  the  bos'n,  took  him 

73 


The  Wind-jammers 


into  the  fo' castle.  After  that  Jensen  took  him  in 
hand  pretty  regular. 

"  '  In  my  day/  said  he,  '  boys  were  {aught  some- 
thing, and  there  weren't  no  dudes.  And  the  only 
way  to  get  knowledge  into  a  boy's  hide  is  to  lam  it  in 
with  a  rope' s  end.  It  stays  there  then. '  So  he  would 
lecture  Johnnie  on  the  wicked  ways  of  the  world, 
and  after  the  poor  little  fellow  would  listen  to  the 
rigmarole  and  gibbie  gabble  he  would  take  him 
under  the  t' gallant  fo' castle  and  lam  him  beyond  all 
reason,  just  so  he  wouldn't  forget  a  word  he  told 
him." 

"That's  what  the  men  said,"  broke  in  Zack  Green. 

"  He  was  a  ruffian  to  the  little  fellow  and  a  d d 

coward,  and  meaner  than  the  wrath  of  Davy  Jones. 
It's  all  because  he  wasn't  signed  on  regular." 

Gantline  was  silent  for  a  time,  and  then  con- 
tinued : 

"  He  grew  fat  and  strong  and  in  a  couple  of 
months  could  go  aloft  with  the  men.  He  feared 
nothing  but  Jensen,  and  the  men  used  to  call  out  for 
fun,  '  Here  comes  the  mate,  Johnnie,'  just  to  hear 
him  curse. 

"  Curse  ?  Lord  love  ye,  he  could  beat  anything 
I  ever  heard.  Why,  I've  seen  the  mate  go  for'ard 
to  see  what  the  men  were  laughing  at,  when  it  was 
just  Johnnie  calling  Jensen  names  to  them." 

"Shows  how  the  coward  was  ruining  him,"  broke 
in  the  skipper. 

"Well,  he  did  have  a  queer  way  of  training  him," 
went  on  Gantline.  "  He  would  ask  him  questions 

74 


Johnnie 

about  navigation,  too,  and  then  lam  him  afterwards. 
One  I  remember. 

"'Johnnie,'  said  he,  'if  this  hooker  should  be 
driven  clear  to  the  Pole  and  steered  away  nor'west, 
how  would  she  steer  to  get  back,  considering  she 
had  left  something  there  she  wanted  to  go  back  for, 
for  instance.' 

"  '  Steer  away  nor'west,  sir  ?  Get  back,  sir  ?  Why, 
just  the  opposite  direction,  southeast* 

" '  Now,  how  in  the  name  of  Davy  Jones  can  a 
vessel  get  to  the  Pole  steering  southeast,  hey?'  he 
would  yell.  'What's  the  matter  with  you?  I'll 
give  you  till  the  watch  is  called  to  answer,  and  if  you 
don't,  I'll  peel  you  fore  an'  aft'  " 

"A  cowardly,  ignorant  fool,  sure  enough,"  said 
the  skipper. 

Gantline  bit  off  a  fresh  chew  of  tobacco  and 
stowed  it  carefully  in  his  cheek. 

"Still,"  he  went  on,  slowly,  "when  the  weather 
got  cold  he  saw  the  poor  boy  shivering  one  day,  and 
he  went  aft  and  bought  him  a  new  set  of  slops, 
good  and  warm.  He  must  have  paid  half  a  month's 
wage  for  them,  for  the  old  man  never  gave  things 
away  off  the  Horn.  You  may  say  it  wasn't  much, 
but  he  did  it,  anyway. 

"It  was  July  when  we  got  off  the  Cape.  You 
know  how  it  is  in  that  month.  Cold,  dark,  stormy 
weather,  with  the  giant  nor'west  sea  rolling  down 
from  the  Pacific.  We  had  been  knocking  about 
now,  too,  for  three  weeks  and  were  down  below 
61°  south,  so  it  was  hard  enough.  The  cold  was 

75 


The  Wind-jammers 


terrible.  Nearly  all  of  us  were  badly  frozen.  There 
wasn't  any  floating  ice,  but  the  log-line  broke  from 
the  weight  of  ice  frozen  to  it  as  it  dipped  and  rose 
with  the  ship. 

"  It  was  dark  nearly  all  the  time  and  so  gloomy, 
even  when  it  wasn't  blowing  hard  ;  all  hands  were 
used  up.  Jensen  kept  Johnnie  warmed  up  just  the 
same,  and  I  guess  he  thought  it  helped  him. 

"  One  day  it  got  still.  The  wind  died  away  entirely, 
and  the  maintop-sail — the  only  rag  we  had  on  her — 
began  to  jerk  fore  and  aft,  slatting  loud  as  the  ship 
rolled  her  channels  under  in  a  great  live  sea  that 
came  rolling  down  on  us  from  the  north' ard. 

"  It  was  so  dark  at  six  bells  in  the  afternoon  the 
forms  of  the  men  loomed  strange  like  through  the 
gloom  as  they  walked  fore  and  aft  in  the  gangways. 
It  was  my  watch  on  deck  ;  but  there  was  nothing  to 
do,  so  I  sat  on  the  step  to  windward  on  the  poop 
and  smoked  to  keep  warm. 

"  The  mate  came  on  deck  after  a  little  while  to  take 
a  look  around,  and  he  called  Johnnie  to  coil  down 
some  running  rigging  at  the  mizzen. 

"  '  The  bloody  glass  has  fallen  an  inch  since  eight 
bells,"  said  he,  coming  to  where  I  sat. 

"'It  is  sort  of  bad  looking/  said  I,  'and  I  don't 
quite  like  the  quick  run  of  this  sea, — seems  to  go 
faster  than  ever,  as  if  something  was  behind  it/ 
And  as  I  spoke  the  old  hooker  rammed  her  nose 
clear  to  her  knight-heads  into  a  living  hill.  It  rolled 
under  us  silently,  and  the  slatting  of  the  topsail  and 
rush  of  water  in  the  channels  were  the  only  sounds 

76 


Johnnie 

It  made.  The  voices  of  the  men  jarred  on  my  ears, 
strange  like. 

"  All  of  a  sudden  a  long,  hoarse  cry  broke  from 
the  gloom  and  silence  to  windward. 

" '  What's  that  ?'  asked  Johnnie,  and  he  dropped 
the  rope. 

" '  That's  the  Cape  Horn  devil/  said  the  bos'n, 
grinning ;  '  every  time  he  winks  his  eye  he  gives  er 
yell,  an'  wice  wersa ;  see  ?' 

"'Cape  Horn  thunder,'  growled  Jensen;  'you 
an'  me  will  disagree  somewhat,  Williams,  if  you  try 
an'  scare  the  boy  like  that.  Jump,  blast  you,  and 
lay  up  on  that  foreyard  an'  see  if  there  ain't  some 
serving  wanted  on  that  weather  lift.  Git  !' 

•''Cape  Horn  h ,"  he  went  on  to  Johnnie. 

'That  ain't  nothing  but  a  bleeding  old  penguin,  and 
may  the  devil  take  his  infernal  soul.' 

"Johnnie  didn't  know  any  more  than  he  did  before 
he  spoke,  so  he  kept  looking  out  of  the  clew  of  his 
eye  to  windward  while  he  worked.  The  mate  was 
strange  and  queer  when  he  heard  that  cry.  I  don't 
know  what  it  was,  but  it  sounded  like  some  one  calling 
out  of  that  great  blackness.  Jensen  went  below,  and 
when  he  came  on  deck  I  smelled  rum  on  his  breath. 

"  Soon  the  cry  was  repeated,  and  I  must  say  it  did 
have  a  depressing  effect. 

" '  Sure  sign  of  westerly  wind,'  said  Jensen,  as  he 
lit  his  pipe  and  walked  fore  and  aft.  '  Better  make 
all  snug  for'ard  there,  for,  by  hookey,  it  looks  as  if 
we  were  goin'  to  have  a  fracas.' 

"  I  went  for'ard  and  saw  all  snug  and  then  came  aft 
77 


The  Wind-jammers 


again.  The  old  man  had  come  on  deck,  and  I  could 
see  on  his  face  the  glow  of  his  pipe  as  he  drew  it 
He  was  standing  close  to  the  rail  and  looking  hard 
to  the  north' ard. 

"  '  I  don't  believe  a  barometer  is  any  good  in  these 
here  latitudes,'  I  heard  Jensen  say  to  him.  '  I've 
seen  the  glass  way  below  the  centre  of  a  West  India 
hurricane  an'  no  more  wind  than  now  for  days  on 
end.' 

"It  wasn't  five  minutes  afterwards  that  I  felt  a 
puff,  and  the  topsail  came  aback  with  a  crack.  The 
old  man  was  on  the  break  of  the  poop  in  a  second, 
bawling,  *  All  hands  wear  ship  ;  hard  up  the  wheel !' 

"The  men  jumped  for  the  braces,  but  it  was  nearly 
ten  minutes  before  we  got  way  on  her.  The  wind 
came  slowly.  By  the  time  she  paid  off  it  had  in- 
creased, and  came  harder  and  harder  at  every  puff, 
so  before  we  had  her  braced  around  on  the  port-tack 
it  was  snorting  away  in  true  Cape  Horn  style.  Soon 
we  were  switching  into  it  at  a  great  rate,  and  the  big 
sea  that  took  us  fair  on  the  port-bow  made  a  nasty 
mess  on  the  main-deck,  while  the  maintop-sail  with 
the  sheet  slacked  off,  to  spill  some  of  the  wind  out 
of  it,  bellied  out  like  some  huge  monster  in  the 
gloom  overhead. 

"  There  was  nothing  more  to  do,  so  when  the  watch 
was  changed  I  turned  in,  and  after  wedging  myself 
into  my  bunk  I  fell  asleep. 

"  It  seemed  as  though  I  had  hardly  closed  my  eyes 
before  there  was  a  sharp  banging  at  my  door.  I 
turned  out,  and  opening  it  found  Johnnie  standing  in 

78 


Johnnie 


the  for'ard  cabin  with  the  water  dripping  from  his 
shining  oil-skins  and  blowing  his  fingers  to  try  and 
get  them  warm. 

" '  Eight  bells,  sir/  said  he,  '  an'  the  mate  wants 
you,  sir.' 

" '  All  right ;  how  is  it  now  ?'  I  said. 

"  'Bad  night,  sir,  and  plenty  of  water  on  deck.' 

"  I  buttoned  on  my  sou'wester  and  followed  John- 
nie to  the  cabin  door.  It  was  on  the  lee  side,  so 
there  was  no  trouble  getting  out. 

"  As  I  stepped  on  deck  I  saw  that  the  gale  had  in- 
creased in  force,  and  the  dull  booming  roar  over- 
head told  that  the  old  ship  was  standing  up  to  it 
manfully. 

"  She  was  plunging  and  switching  into  a  giant  sea, 
and  every  now  and  then  a  huge  mass  of  water  fell  on 
deck  with  a  tremendous  crash  and  roared  off  to  lee- 
ward through  the  water-ways. 

"  We  kept  clear  of  the  main-deck  and  joined  the 
rest  of  the  watch  on  the  poop,  where  some  of  them 
had  stayed  to  keep  clear  of  the  water. 

"As  my  eyes  were  almost  blinded  at  first  from  the 
flying  drift,  I  couldn't  make  out  anything,  but  soon 
they  got  accustomed  to  the  darkness  and  water,  and 
I  looked  about  me. 

"  The  maintop-sail  was  still  holding  with  the  foot 
rope  stretching  and  bending  until  it  was  almost  on 
the  yard,  but  the  sheet,  being  slacked  off,  eased  it, 
while  the  way  the  wind  roared  out  from  under  the 
foot  of  the  sail  told  plainly  of  the  pressure. 

"To  leeward,  on  the  main-deck,  the  foam  showed 
79 


The  Wind-jammers 


ghastly  white,  and  it  was  evident  that  the  waist  was 
full  of  ice-cold  water.  I  soon  made  out  the  forms 
of  the  rest  of  the  watch  huddled  behind  the  for'ard 
house,  swinging  their  arms  to  keep  their  hands  warm. 
The  old  man  stood  on  the  break  of  the  poop  hold- 
ing on  to  the  pin-rail  and  beside  him  stood  the  mate, 
both  watching  the  maintop-sail  as  it  surged  and 
strained  at  the  clews. 

"I  saw  in  a  moment  that  if  the  sail  went  there 
would  be  nothing  to  do  but  run  for  it,  as  it  was  all 
two  men  at  the  wheel  could  do  to  hold  her  up  to  it 
as  it  was. 

"While  I  was  looking  at  the  sail  I  heard  a  loud 
crack  like  a  gun  and  saw  the  lee-clew  part  from  the 
yard-arm.  It  was  gone  to  ribbons  in  a  second,  but 
the  weather-clew  still  held. 

"  *  Goose-wing  it !'  roared  the  old  man,  and  Jensen 
bawled  for  all  hands  to  lay  out  on  that  yard. 

"The  men  for'ard  saw  what  had  happened  even  if 
they  didn't  hear  the  mate.  Just  as  they  started  aft 
to  the  main-rigging  a  tremendous  sea  rolled  right 
over  the  weather-rail.  The  for'ard  house  saved  the 
men,  but  they  were  up  to  their  waists  in  cold  water 
and  held  back. 

" '  Lay  out  on  that  yard  !'  bawled  Jensen,  and  we 
fought  our  way  along  the  weather-rail  to  the  back- 
stays. '  Lay  out  there  !'  and  his  voice  rose  to  a 
screech,  for  it  was  duff  or  dog's  belly,  as  the  saying 
is,  and  it  meant  life  or  death  for  all  hands. 

"In  the  gloom  I  saw  a  slight  form  spring  into 
the  ratlines  and  go  aloft  hand  over  hand.  Then  the 

80 


Johnnie 

men  followed,  while  Jensen  was  bawling,  'Come 
down,  you  devil's  limb  !  come  down,  or  I'll  skin 
you  !' 

"  But  Johnnie  was  leading  the  way  over  the  fut- 
tock-shrouds,  so  I  grabbed  the  ratlines  and  went  up 
with  the  rest." 

Here  Gantline  stopped  for  a  moment  and  expec- 
torated violently  down  the  weather-side  most  un- 
sailorly. 

"And  didn't  that  coward  Jensen  go  along,  or  was 
he  too  scared?"  asked  Captain  Green. 

Gantline  wiped  his  mouth  and  continued,  slowly, 
"  He  may  or  may  not  have  been  scared.  He  went 
aft  Johnnie  gained  the  yard  first  with  Williams  close 
behind  him,  and  they  started  out  to  leeward  with  the 
watch  following. 

"  The  yard-arm  was  jumping  and  springing  under 
the  shock  of  flying  canvas,  and  it  was  all  a  good 
sailor  could  do  to  hold  on.  The  men  soon  passed 
a  line  under  the  sail  and  got  it  on  the  yard  amid- 
ships, while  Johnnie,  knife  in  hand,  cut  away  the 
flying  canvas  from  the  bolt-rope  to  leeward. 

"  It  was  bitter  work  on  that  yard-arm  in  that  freez- 
ing gale,  and  it  took  a  long  time  to  get  the  sail 
'  goose-winged/ — that  is,  with  the  bunt  on  the  yard 
and  the  weather-clew  drawing, — and  when  we  got 
through  my  hands  were  so  nearly  frozen  I  could 
hardly  hold  on  to  a  rope. 

"The  mate  was  on  the  poop,  and  we  had  just 
finished  lashing  the  sail,  when  I  felt  the  vessel  take  a 
tremendous  heave  to  windward. 

6  S< 


The  Wind-jammers 


" '  Hold  hard ! '  I  yelled,  for  I  knew  what  was 
coming.  With  a  great  heave  she  rolled  to  leeward, 
and  above  the  roar  I  heard  the  smothering  rush  of 
water  as  the  sea  went  over  her. 

"  From  the  darkness  to  leeward  I  heard  a  sharp 
cry,  and,  looking  to  where  I  had  last  seen  Johnnie,  I 
saw  he  was  gone. 

"  I  grasped  the  topsail  clew-line  and  slid  down  to 
the  deck.  Making  my  way  aft  somehow,  I  found  the 
old  man  and  one  of  the  men  at  the  wheel  holding 
on  to  a  rope  that  trailed  taut  over  the  lee-quarter, 
while  the  old  man  was  bawling  for  some  one  to  lay 
aft  and  help  pull  it  in. 

"  I  grabbed  hold  and  we  hauled  it  in  together.  A 
dark  lump  came  over  the  side  and  I  grabbed  hold 
of  it  and  pulled  it  aboard.  It  was  all  that  was  left 
of  Jensen.  He  had  seen  Johnnie  go,  and  had  gone 
after  him  with  the  line  around  his  waist 

"The  old  man  said  nothing,  but  took  his  shoul- 
ders and  I  took  his  feet  and  we  carried  him  below. 
He  was  as  dead  as  could  be.  A  sea  had  hove  him 
under  the  ship's  counter  as  she  squatted,  and  the 
top  of  his  head  was  stove  flat 

"  The  old  man  didn't  say  much,  but  I  could  see  by 
the  light  of  the  lamp  there  was  more  water  in  his 
eyes  than  that  of  the  flying  drift. 

"  The  next  day  the  carpenter  sewed  the  mate  up 
in  canvas,  along  with  some  sheet-lead.  The  old 
man  read  the  service  in  spite  of  the  gale,  and  then 
he  raised  his  hand. 

"  The  men  of  the  mate's  watch  tilted  the  plank  he 
82 


Johnnie 


was  laying  on,  and  the  white  bundle  went  to  leeward 
with  a  heavy  plunge. 

"Just  at  that  minute  the  long,  hoarse  cry  of  a 
penguin  broke  on  our  ears  from  the  darkness  to  the 
s'uth'ard.  That  was  all." 

Zach  Green  sat  smoking,  but  said  nothing.  Gant- 
line  turned  and  noticed  me.  Then  he  spat  his  quid 
overboard,  and,  giving  me  the  course  for  my  watch, 
went  slowly  forward. 


THE  TREASURE  OF  TINIAN 
REEF 

THE  tropical  sun  shone  fiercely  on  the  beach 
of  coral  sand.  The  tall-trunked  cocoa- 
nuts,  with  their  bunchy,  long-leaved  tops, 
rustled  softly  in  the  trade-wind  on  the  shore,  and 
stood  like  bold  sentinels,  or  a  picket-line,  for  the 
serried  ranks  of  thick  jungle  growth  on  the  land 
behind  them.  The  long,  heavy  roll  of  the  Pacific 
heaved  itself  up,  as  if  in  defiance,  as  it  rolled  towards 
the  land,  mounting  higher  and  higher  upon  itself, 
until  the  blue  wall  wavered  an  instant,  then  fell  with 
a  mighty  roar  into  a  waste  of  sparkling  foam  as  it 
rolled  over  the  barrier-reef  and  rushed  towards  the 
beach  beyond. 

Sometimes  the  seas  would  come  in  quick  couples, 
and  the  deep  thundering  jar  of  their  falling  bodies 
could  be  heard  clear  back  to  Sunharon,  where  San- 
gaan  lived  in  the  pride  of  his  manhood  and  a  grass- 
thatched  palace. 

Northward  from  the  reef,  well  off  shore,  lay  a 
small  schooner,  rolling  deep  in  the  swell.  Her  main- 
sail was  hauled  flat  aft,  and  she  lay  hove  to,  while  a 
small  white  speck  in  the  sea  between  her  and  the 
shore,  growing  rapidly  larger  every  moment,  told 
plainly  to  the  curious  native  sitting  on  the  beach  in 
the  shadow  of  a  palm  that  a  boat  was  soon  to  make 

a  landing. 

84 


The  Treasure  of  Tinian  Reef 

But  Warto  was  not  uneasy.  He  had  seen  boats 
land  there  before,  and  had  once  helped  to  carry 
some  of  the  men  ashore,  where  a  large  fire  had  been 
built  and  knives  sharpened  ;  but  that  was  long  ago, 
long  before  Mr.  Easyman  had  come  there  and  taught 
him  how  to  take  care  of  his  soul  as  well  as  his  huge 
brown  body. 

Still,  memory  made  his  eyes  bright,  and  he  in- 
voluntarily clutched  a  short  spear  with  his  right 
hand  as  he  sat  and  watched  the  small  boat  near  the 
surf. 

"  Steady  your  bow  oar !"  roared  a  deep-voiced, 
bow-legged  man  who  stood  at  the  steering  oar. 
Then  he  removed  his  cap  and  wiped  a  dent  in  the 
top  of  his  bald  head,  while  he  gazed  steadfastly  at  a 
floating  mass  in  the  water.  "  By  the  Holy  Smoke, 
Gantline  !  but  that's  some  o'  that  whale  slush,  or 
bust  my  eyes  !" 

Gantline,  pulling  stroke  oar,  turned  quickly  in  his 
seat  at  this  and  gazed  in  the  direction  the  boat  was 
heading,  where  a  small  object  floated  like  a  lump 
of  tallow  on  the  smooth  water.  His  gray  eyes  grew 
suddenly  bright  as  he  brought  the  object  in  range 
of  his  vision,  but  he  assumed  a  careless  air  as  he 
answered  Garnett. 

"  Nothing  but  a  piece  of  whale-blubber,"  he 
muttered,  as  he  drew  his  oar  inboard.  "Some  of 
those  niggers  been  trying  out  on  the  beach  ;  and, 
by  thunder  !  if  that  ain't  one  squatting  there  under 
that  big  palm  right  ahead." 

"  Get  out  your  boat-hook,"  roared  Garnett  to  the 
85 


The  Wind-jammers 


man  at  the  bow  oar,  "and  make  a  pass  at  it ;  for, 
by  the  Pope  !  it  looks  to  me  like  a  lump  of  amber- 
grease." 

They  were  very  close  to  the  line  of  lifting  water, 
closer,  in  fact,  than  Garnett  supposed ;  but  he  was 
so  intent  on  capturing  the  floating  prize  that  he  did 
not  realize  his  danger. 

The  man  forward  reached  for  the  floating  mass 
with  his  boat-hook  and  drew  it  alongside,  but  it 
took  the  united  efforts  of  himself  and  the  man  next 
him  to  lift  the  spongy,  slippery  lump  into  the  boat. 

There  it  was,  a  good  hundred  pounds  of  amber- 
gris, worth  fifty  dollars  a  pound  anywhere  on  the 
West  Coast. 

Garnett  removed  his  cap  and  mopped  the  top  of 
his  bald  head,  while  his  eyes  remained  fixed  upon 
the  prize.  "  By  the  Holy  Smoke,  Gantline  !  you 
see  what  comes  o'  being  in  charge  of  a  party.  I 
came  mighty  near  letting  you  go  ashore  with  the 
boat  by  yourself,  and  then  I'd  been  out  a  few  thou- 
sand ;  but  never  mind,  I'll  give  you  a  pound  o'  the 
stuff,  anyways." 

Gantline  gave  a  loud  grunt  of  disgust  "  Seems 
to  me  half  and  half  would  sound  better  among  old 
messmates  like  us.  By  thunder  !  if  I  had  picked 
it  up  you  would  have  had  your  share  fast  enough." 

Garnett  smiled  broadly  and  replaced  his  cap  on 
his  head. 

"It's  a  pity  that  the  devilish  desire  to  prosper 
should  come  atween  two  old  shipmates  like  us  two  ; 
but  I  remember  the  time,  onct,  when  the  terbacker 

86 


The  Treasure  of  Tinian  Reef 

gave  out  on  the  Moose,  and  you  never  so  much 
as  offered  me  a  quid  off  your  plug,  even  when 
you  knowed  I  was  suffering.  Besides,  it  not  only 
wouldn't  do  to  divy  up  from  a  physical  stand-point, 
but  it's  'gainst  all  morals  and  religion.  What  d'ye 
suppose  old  Easyman,  ashore  there,  would  say  if  I 
gave  up  my  rights  ?  The  Bible  says,  '  He  that  have 
got,  shall  have  ;  and  he  that  haven't  got,  shall  have 
that  which  he  ain't  taken  from  him,'  which  goes  to 
show  that  by  all  rights  and  religion  I  should  take 
away  that  pound  I  promised  you." 

Gantline  muttered  something  that  Garnett  couldn't 
hear,  and  then  resumed  his  oar. 

During  all  this  time  the  boat  had  been  drifting 
towards  the  beach,  but  the  wind  had  caused  her  to 
swing  nearly  broadside  on  while  all  hands  were  busy 
with  the  prize.  Suddenly  Gantline  looked  seaward, 
and  gave  a  quick  exclamation  that  brought  Garnett 
to  his  senses  and  the  steering  oar  with  a  jump. 

"  Back  port !  Give  way  starboard,  for  God's 
sake  !"  roared  the  mate,  as  he  swung  all  his  weight 
on  the  steering  oar  to  slew  the  boat  head-on  ;  but 
it  was  too  late.  A  great  blue  sea  rose  just  outside 
of  them,  with  its  inshore  slope  growing  steeper  and 
steeper,  until  it  was  almost  perpendicular.  Then, 
curling  clear  and  green,  it  fell  over  them,  and  in 
an  instant  boat  and  men  disappeared  in  the  white 
smother. 

"Ternal  bliss!  'ternal  bliss!"  lisped  Warto, 
sweetly,  as  he  sat  scraping  his  great  toe-nail  with  a 
piece  of  shell.  Then  he  glanced  sharply  up  and 

87 


The  Wind-jammers 


down  the  beach  to  see  if  anybody  was  looking  who 
might  tell  the  missionary,  and,  grasping  his  spear 
firmly,  dropped  his  grass  cloth  and  made  for  the 
surf. 

The  first  thing  that  attracted  his  attention  was  a 
shining  bald  head  which  glistened  brightly  in  the 
sunshine,  and  he  made  his  way  swiftly  towards  it 

"  Get  onto  the  divil  av  a  naygur  makin'  for  us," 
said  a  sailor.  "  Faith,  an'  if  me  eyes  ain't  entirely 
full  of  salt,  I  do  believe  the  black  haythen  has  a 
harpoon  along  with  him.  Now,  bless  me " 

This  last  remark  was  caused  by  the  actions  of 
Garnett,  who  was  swimming  a  little  in  advance  of 
the  rest,  turning  his  head  every  now  and  then  to 
watch  for  the  following  breakers.  The  mate  had  an 
oar  under  each  arm  and  was  using  the  boat-hook 
for  a  paddle,  when  he  was  aware  of  a  black  head, 
with  shining  eyes  and  grinning  teeth,  close  aboard 
him. 

There  was  something  suspicious  in  the  manner  the 
savage  swam,  for,  while  he  often  held  one  hand  clear 
of  the  water,  Garnett  noticed  that  the  other  was 
always  below  the  surface. 

"Git  out  the  way,  ye  murdering  shark,  or  I'll 
hook  ye  higher  than  Haman !"  roared  Garnett,  as  he 
flourished  his  boat-hook  and  glared  fiercely  at  the 
islander.  "  None  o'  your  cannibal  tricks  on  me ;" 
and  with  that  he  made  a  pass  with  his  weapon  so 
quick  that  Warto  came  near  ending  his  career  as  a 
beach-comber  then  and  there. 

As  it  was,  he  ducked  his  head  just  in  time,  and 


The  Treasure  of  Tinian  Reef 

then,  completely  cowed  by  this  show  of  resistance 
from  what  he  supposed  were  helpless  men,  made 
for  the  beach. 

Before  Garnett  made  the  land  quite  a  crowd 
had  collected,  for  the  fleeing  savage  had  spread  the 
news  in  a  few  moments,  and  then  hastened  back  to 
see  if  anything  was  to  be  gained  from  the  new 
arrivals. 

These  came  ashore  in  due  course  of  time  on 
whatever  flotsam  that  happened  within  their  reach : 
Gantline  astride  of  a  keg  which  bore  the  missionary's 
name  in  large  black  letters,  painted  on  the  ends, 
while  the  two  sailors  clung  tenaciously  to  the  sides 
of  the  capsized  boat. 

Soon  the  majestic  form  of  Sangaan  was  seen 
approaching,  accompanied  by  a  crowd  of  servants 
and  the  Reverend  Father  Easyman  himself. 

At  an  order  from  their  chief,  several  stout  fellows 
plunged  into  the  surf  and  assisted  in  getting  Gantline 
and  the  men  safely  ashore  ;  but  Garnett  flourished 
his  boat-hook  when  they  approached  him,  and  glared 
at  them  so  savagely  that  they  soon  let  him  alone 
and  turned  their  attention  to  securing  whatever  stuff 
still  floated  in  the  broken  water. 

When  Garnett  could  stand,  he  turned  and  cast  his 
eye  along  the  white  line  of  rolling  surge  in  search 
of  his  prize,  but  failing  to  see  it,  he  walked  slowly 
ashore,  looking  intently  from  right  to  left 

Gantline  and  the  men  were  already  surrounded 
by  the  crowd  of  natives,  and  the  missionary  was 
alternately  shaking  their  hands  and  offering  up 

89 


The  Wind-Jammers 


thanks  for  their  safe  deliverance  from  the  perils  of 
the  sea.  At  a  wave  of  the  good  man's  hand,  two 
strapping  fellows  picked  up  his  keg  and  made  off 
in  the  direction  of  the  mission,  but  the  rest  of  the 
supplies,  that  still  floated,  were  piled  in  a  heap  upon 
the  sand  as  fast  as  the  men  could  rescue  them  from 
the  water. 

"  By  the  Holy  Smoke  !  Mr.  Easyman,"  grunted 
Garnett,  with  a  string  of  oaths,  "but  you're  making 
a  fine  lot  o'  these  naygers  when  they  swim  out  and 
try  to  murder  a  man  as  soon  as  he  gets  into  trouble. 
There  was " 

"Ah,  me!"  gasped  the  missionary,  lifting  his 
hands  and  raising  his  eyes  ;  "  so  it  is  the  violent  one 
I  see  again, — the  man  of  fierce  speech.  A  warm 
welcome  to  you,  friend  ;  for  it  has  been  a  long  time 
since  you  and  Father  Tellman's  pig  left  the  Mar- 
quesas suddenly  on  the  same  day.  A  mere  coinci- 
dence, however !  a  mere  coincidence  !"  and  he  shot 
a  vengeful  look  at  the  mate,  who  smiled  and  spat  a 
stream  of  tobacco  and  salt  water  upon  the  sand. 

"What  is  the  invoice  of  goods  that  you  have 
landed  so  disastrously.  I  had  thought  you  were  a 
right  good  sailor,  though  I  reckoned  you  a  poor 
Christian.  Give  me  the  bill  and  I'll  check  off  what 
I  owe  your  captain  for.  Ah,  my  friend,  it  gives 
me  great  unease  to  hear  you  use  such  strange  and 
unholy  words,  especially  before  my  great  friend, 
Chief  Sangaan,  the  greatest  chief  in  the  Archipelago, 
and  also  the  greatest  ras " 

"Tis    Garnett,   sure    enough,"   he    continued   to 
90 


The  Treasure  of  Tinian  Reef 

himself,  as  that  sailor,  having  handed  him  the  list  of 
goods,  hurried  off  down  the  beach,  where  Gantline 
stood  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  an  object  in  the  surf. 

"  Blast  his  eyes  !  if  he  don't  remember  me  when 
I  was  on  the  Pigeon,"  said  Garnett,  as  he  reached 
Gantline.  "You  remember  that  foolishness  I  told 
you  about  concerning  a  pretty  wench  he  had  at 
the  mission — ewe  lamb,  he  called  her — and  that 
infernal  pig  I  pulled  out  of  his  friend's  pen  the  day 
we  sailed.  Dernation  !  the  beast  was  so  tough  I 
can  taste  it  yet." 

"There's  a  saying  in  the  Holy  Book  that  stolen 
fruits  is  sweetest,"  answered  Gantline,  with  a  grin  ; 
"  which  goes  to  show  the  onreliability  of  misplacing 
these  quotations.  Which,  the  same,  you  seem  to 
be  doing  in  regard  to  that  lump  of  whale  stuff!  It 
seems  to  me  that  I  might  enter  into  a  dispute  with 
you  in  regard  to  the  ownership  of  it ;  for,  if  I  see 
straight,  there  it  is  just  inside  the  first  line  of  breakers, 
and  belongs  to  the  man  who  can  abide  the  longest 
for  its  sake." 

' '  Now,  by  the  eyes  of  that  sky-pilot,  if  you  are 
bent  on  quarrelling  and  intent  on  mutiny,  it  won't 
take  long  for  me  to  show  you  who  is  running  this 
affair,"  said  Garnett,  as  he  glared  at  Gantline  and 
began  to  make  a  few  preparations  necessary  for 
establishing  his  authority. 

"  We're  on  the  beach  ;  and,  Lord  love  ye,  Garnett, 
I'll  make  a  fair  showing  if  you  start  for  me.  Afloat 
I'll  obey  orders,  but  ashore  you've  got  to  prove 
what's  what  before  I  believe  it." 

91 


The  Wind-jammers 


So  saying,  Gantline  plunged  into  the  surf  and 
made  his  way  rapidly  towards  the  floating  mass, 
which  represented,  in  value,  his  profits  of  a  dozen 
voyages. 

"This  is  too  infernal  bad,"  muttered  Garnett  to 
himself,  as  several  natives  started  out  to  help  Gant- 
line. "  Here  I'll  have  to  fight  Gantline  or  lose 
half  of  that  lump  o'  grease ;  but  he  brings  it  on 
himself,  for  it's  mutiny." 

He  grasped  the  boat-hook  which  he  still  carried, 
and  waited  patiently  until  the  lump  was  brought 
ashore.  Then  he  approached  the  second  mate,  who 
had  had  the  prize  carried  above  high-water  mark, 
where  he  stood  astride  of  it 

The  natives  saw  that  something  was  wrong  be- 
tween the  white  men,  although  they  knew  nothing 
of  the  dispute  or  the  value  of  the  fetid  prize,  so 
they  began  to  crowd  around  them  in  the  hope  of 
viewing  and  enjoying  the  hostilities  in  which  they 
had  no  desire  to  take  part. 

"  'Tis  no  use,  Garnett ;  you  are  too  old  a  dog  to 
make  headway  against  me,  even  with  that  hook, 
though  there  was  a  timf  'vhen  you  might  have  held 
on  to  some  purpose." 

"  I  have  had  a  clip  or  two  in  my  time,"  answered 
Garnett;  "but  we'll  see.  No  matter  if  you  do  get 
to  windward  of  me,  Easyman  and  the  chief  will 
hold  you  for  mutiny  till  the  skipper  gets  you.  So 
stand  away  to  leeward  of  that  luirp  or  I'll  be  for 
boarding  ye." 

"Stand  off!"  bawled  Gantline;  "if  I  fire  this 
92 


The  Treasure  of  Tinian  Reef 

chunk   of  coral   into   that   dent   in   your   forepeak 
there'll  be  trouble." 

"  Ah,  brothers  !  ah,  brothers  !  what  is  this  strife 
about?  and  what  is  that  lump  on  the  sand?"  asked 
a  voice  on  the  outside  of  the  group.  The  natives 
instantly  stood  aside,  and  the  Reverend  Father 
Easyman  stood  before  the  quarrelling  mates.  "  Oh, 
ho  !  it  is  my  friend  of  the  godless  tongue  ;  and  pray, 
my  friend,  what  is  it  he  desires  to  take  from  you  ? 
for  I  reckon  him  a  covetous  man,"  said  the  mission, 
ary,  looking  at  Garnett,  but  addressing  Gantline. 

"It's  just  a  find  of  grease,"  answered  Gantline > 
"and,  as  I  went  into  the  surf  after  it,  I  want  to 
divide  it  with  Garnett  here,  who  says  it's  his  because 
he  saw  it  first" 

"  Lump  of  grease  !  Now,  bless  me,  my  friend,  it 
has  a  most  unholy  odor  for  grease.  'Tis  a  poor  beef 
that  gives  forth  such  tallow ;  but  let  me  examine  it 
closer,  for  there  is  no  need  to  guard  it,  as  Sangaan 
there  will  have  no  disputes  about  the  ownership  of 
property  on  his  most  civilized  island." 

"Sangaan  be  hanged!"  grunted  Garnett;  "the 
stuff's  mine,  and  I'll  have  it  if  I  have  to  bring  the 
schooner  in  and  fire  on  the  village  with  our  twelve- 
pounder.  Who's  Sangaan,  that  he  must  meddle 
with  the  affairs  of  an  American  citizen,  hey?  After 
a  while  I  suppose  I'll  have  to  be  asking  permission 
from  every  chief  in  the  Archipelago  to  carry  the 
stuff  we  just  brought  ashore  for  you.  Have  your 
niggers  clear  our  boat  and  give  me  the  bill,  for  it's 
time  we  were  aboard  again." 

93, 


The  Wind-jammers 


"  Not  so  fast,  friend  Garnett,"  said  the  missionary ; 
"your  boat  is  stove,  and  it  will  take  a  man  a  half  a 
day  to  repair  it,  and  as  you  haven't  enough  spare 
hands  aboard  your  vessel  to  man  another,  you  will 
have  to  stay  ashore  with  me  this  evening.  Perhaps 
I  may  find  a  nice  tender  shote  and  entertain  you 
according  to  your  taste,"  and  he  glanced  sharply  at 
the  sailor.  "As  for  this  find,  as  you  call  it,  it  seems 
to  me  that  I  have  heard  of  the  stuff*  before,  and  that 
it  has  some  value  ;  so  I  will  have  it  carried  up  to  the 
village  and  stored  safely.  In  the  mean  time  we  can 
discuss  its  ownership  and  also  examine  certain  articles 
billed  to  me  at  our  leisure  ;  for  although  your  cap- 
tain is  an  honest  trader  and  a  true  Christian  man, 
yet  one  of  his  last  year's  kegs  did  contain  a  most 
unsavory  mixture,  and  gave  rise  to  the  impression 
that  his  vessel's  hold  contained  much  liquid  tar  in 
a  free  state.  As  for  Sangaan,  it  will  be  well  for  you 
to  show  him  some  deference,  for,  although  a  good 
chief  and  a  devout  man,  he  has  little  love  for  sailors, 
as  you  may  remember  if  you  have  not  forgotten  that 
affair  of  the  Petrel.  He  is  coming  this  way  now 
with  his  men,  so  have  a  care." 

Garnett  saw  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  as  the 
missionary  said.  The  boat  was  injured  so  as  to  be 
unsafe  for  a  long  pull  through  the  heavy  surf,  and  it 
would  have  to  be  repaired  before  launching  again. 

Gantline  had  the  fetid  mass  which  he  was  guarding 
so  closely  put  into  an  empty  keg,  and  several  natives 
carried  it  off*  to  the  mission  as  Sangaan  walked  up. 

The  chief  evidently  remembered  the  mate,  for  he 

94 


The  Treasure  of  Tinian  Reef 

advanced  smiling  and  held  out  his  hand,  saying,  in 
good  English,  "  How  do  you  do  ?  Had  a  bad  time 
in  surf,  so  come  up  to  the  mission  and  we'll  have  a 
good  time." 

Garnett  shook  his  hand,  and  then,  the  missionary 
joining  them,  they  walked  towards  the  mission  house 
together.  They  proceeded  in  silence,  Garnett  eyeing 
the  chief  suspiciously  and  trying  to  remember  if  he 
had  ever  committed  any  deviltries  which  Sangaan 
might  still  feel  sore  about.  The  missionary  kept 
Gantline  and  the  two  sailors  in  view,  but  appeared 
to  be  lost  in  deep  thought.  A  close  observer,  how- 
ever, might  have  noticed  an  unholy  twinkle  in  his 
eye  when  he  glanced  at  the  natives  who  were  carry- 
ing the  keg  of  ambergris  towards  his  home. 

As  for  Sangaan,  he  suddenly  seemed  to  remember 
some  of  Garnett' s  former  trips  through  the  Archipel- 
ago, and  asked  very  abruptly,  "  How's  Mr.  'Toole?" 
And  at  the  memory  of  O'Toole's  affairs  with  the 
natives  Garnett  snapped  out,  "  He's  dead."  Where- 
upon the  chief  laughed  so  heartily  that  Garnett's 
suspicions  were  aroused  again,  and  he  remained 
silent 

"  And  Captain  Crojack,  how  is  he  ?  He  used  to 
do  good  trade  with  the  people  to  the  southward." 

"Oh,  he's  still  alive,"  answered  Garnett,  somewhat 
reassured.  "  He's  in  the  China  trade  now." 

"  And  'Toole,  his  mate,  —  I  think  you  must 
lie " 

"  He  is  dead,  I  tell  you,"  answered  the  mate 
quickly,  for  it  was  evident  that  the  chief  still  wished 

95 


The  Wind-jammers 


to  hear  some  news  of  him.  "That's  a  fine  big 

mission  house,  by  the Beg  your  pardon,  but 

it  is  just  the  same ;  and,  by  thunder,  it's  the  best 
on  the  islands." 

"  Be  not  so  violent,  friend  Garnett,"  said  the  mis- 
sionary. "  It  is  a  good  house  ,  and,  by  the  blessing 
of  Providence,  we  have  striven  successfully  to  keep 
it  in  good  repair  against  the  fierce  typhoon  and  the 
hot  sun." 

"  It's  good  and  large,"  said  Sangaan,  with  pride ; 
"and  you  and  your  men  may  sleep  upstairs.  The 
room  is  wide  and  cool." 

Garnett  grunted  out  thanks  for  the  chief's  hos- 
pitality, but  remarked  that  if  the  boat  could  be  fixed 
in  time  he  would  rather  go  aboard  the  ship.  All 
he  wished  for  was  the  loan  of  a  few  tools  and  a  piece 
of  wood,  and  he  thought  the  boat  could  be  fixed 
fast  enough.  These  the  missionary  lent  him ;  so, 
after  going  over  the  list  of  goods  and  testing  some 
of  the  contents  of  the  kegs  and  packages,  he  and 
Gantline,  accompanied  by  the  two  sailors,  went  back 
to  the  beach  and  began  work  on  the  boat 

They  were  soon  surrounded  by  a  curious  crowd 
of  natives,  who  squatted  around  them  in  a  circle 
and  looked  on,  regardless  of  the  hot  sunshine,  while 
the  mates  and  men  toiled  bravely  at  their  task. 

The  boat  was  so  badly  stove,  however,  that  it  was 
dark  before  they  were  half  through  repairing  her  ;  so, 
when  Father  Easyman  came  down  on  the  beach  and 
told  them  that  they  would  find  something  to  eat  at 
the  mission,  all  hands  knocked  off  and  started  for  it 

96 


The  Treasure  of  Tiokc   Reef 


Garnett  and  Gantline  had  been  arguing  about  the 
possession  of  their  find  of  the  morning,  but  had  not 
come  to  blows  ;  for  the  mate  knew  that  it  would 
rest  with  the  skipper  as  to  who  would  have  the 
largest  share  of  it,  and  that  nothing  could  be  settled 
until  they  got  aboard  ship.  There  was  little  use, 
either,  in  getting  the  missionary  mixed  up  in  the 
matter,  for  he  would  be  likely  to  press  the  weight 
of  his  judgment  against  him  if  called  upon  to  help 
decide  the  case. 

The  mission  house  was  a  large  frame  building, 
built  of  boards  brought  ashore  from  a  vessel,  and 
had  a  sloping  thatch  roof.  It  was  two  stories  high, 
however,  the  upper  one  serving  as  a  loft  for  storing 
supplies  belonging  to  the  missionary.  It  was  now 
nearly  empty  ;  a  large,  cool  room,  with  a  slight 
opening  all  around  it  under  the  overhanging  eaves 
of  the  thatch. 

In  this  loft  Garnett  and  his  men  were  left  to  pass 
the  night,  after  having  partaken  of  a  good  meal  at 
the  expense  of  their  host,  who  lived  several  hundred 
yards  farther  back  in  the  village,  in  a  modest  little 
cottage  close  to  the  larger  abode  of  Sangaan. 

The  good  chief  had  offered  them  shelter  under 
his  roof,  but  as  he  had  a  numerous  company  in  his 
household,  and  the  weather  being  warm,  the  mates 
had  expressed  a  keen  desire  to  sleep  alone  with 
their  men.  The  keg  containing  their  prize  was  also 
stored  away  with  them  for  the  night,  and  soon 
silence  settled  upon  the  peaceful  village  of  Sun- 
haron. 


Ihc  Wiad-jammerr 


The  gentle  rustle  of  the  trade-wind  soothed  the 
ears  of  the  tired  men  and  they  slept  soundly 
oa 

"  By  the  Holy  Smoke  !  what's  up  ?"  exclaimed 
Garnett,  as  he  sprang  up  from  the  tarpaulin  on 
which  he  and  the  men  were  lying. 

There  was  a  tremendous  uproar  in  the  room 
beneath,  and  the  voice  of  Sangaan  could  be  heard 
singing  lustily.  It  was  a  little  past  midnight,  but  the 
chieftain's  voice  was  thick  and  husky,  and  it  was 
evident  that  he  intended  celebrating  the  arrival  of 
the  supplies. 

Garnett  had  carefully  withdrawn  the  charges  from 
the  brace  of  huge  muzzle-loading  pistols  he  had 
carried  ashore  with  him,  and  had  managed  to  get  a 
handful  or  two  of  dry  powder  from  the  missionary, 
so  he  was  prepared  to  defend  any  attack  upon  his 
treasure. 

He  awaited  developments,  but  as  no  one  appeared 
on  the  ladder  which  led  to  the  loft,  he  crawled  to  the 
opening  and  looked  below. 

About  twoscore  of  natives,  with  Sangaan  in  their 
midst,  were  crowding  around  a  keg  which  Garnett 
recognized  as  one  of  his  own  wares,  and  a  smile 
broke  upon  his  grizzled  features. 

Gantline  had  come  to  his  side,  and  they  gazed 
down  upon  the  mob. 

In  a  moment  Sangaan  saw  their  faces  and  waved 
his  hands,  "Come  down  !  come  down  !"  he  cried  in 
a  thick  voice,  and  the  whole  assembly  took  up  the 
cry,  laughing  and  shouting. 


The  Treasure  of  Tinian  Reef 

"  Come,  drink  health  !"  bawled  Sangaan,  as  he 
staggered  towards  the  ladder. 

"  No,  sirree  !' '  roared  Garnett.  "  What !  you  ex- 
pect me  to  come  down  and  drink  with  a  lot  o' 
niggers  like  them.  No,  sirree,  not  by  a  darned 
sight." 

"Go  fell,  then  !"  bawled  Sangaan,  and  he  walked 
to  the  keg  for  another  drink,  flourishing  an  empty 
cocoanut  shell  as  he  went. 

It  was  well  that  the  natives  could  not  understand 
Garnett's  remarks,  or  there  might  have  been  trouble, 
but,  instead  of  paying  any  attention  whatever  to  the 
white  men,  they  shouted,  laughed,  and  sang  in  the 
highest  good  humor. 

"  Gad,  Lord  love  ye,  but  what  heads  you'll  have 
in  the  morning,"  muttered  Gantline,  with  a  grin. 
"  'Tis  nearly  half  Norway  tar  the  devils  are  pouring 
into  their  skins.  However,  I  suppose  it's  best,  after 
all,  for  if  'twas  the  real  stuff,  like  what  we  gave  the 
missionary,  they  would  set  fire  to  half  the  village 
before  morning  and  probably  murder  us." 

"By  thunder,  I'm  about  tired  of  the  racket  as  it 
is,"  said  Garnett ;  "let's  see,  if  we  can't  get  a  move 
on  them  anyhow,"  and  he  poked  one  of  his  pistols 
down  the  opening.  "Yell  together,  Gantline." 

"  Hooray  !  Let  'er  go  slow  !"  they  roared  as  Gar- 
nett fired.  "  Hooray  !"  and  he  banged  away  with 
the  other,  filling  the  place  with  smoke  and  smashing 
the  lantern  on  the  table  beneath  him. 

"Load  her  up,  Gantline,"  and  he  passed  one  of 
the  pistols  to  the  second  mate.  There  was  wild 

99 


The  Wind-jammers 


scrambling  for  the  door  in  the  room  beneath,  but 
before  the  frightened  natives  could  get  clear  the 
mates  had  fired  again,  yelling  all  the  time  like  mad- 
men, while  the  two  sailors  hove  everything  they 
could  get  their  hands  on  down  upon  the  struggling 
crowd.  In  a  few  moments  Sangaan  had  retreated, 
but,  as  he  carried  the  keg  of  rum  along  with  him,  he 
doubtless  thought  it  was  not  worth  while  to  go  back 
again.  The  shouting  gradually  died  away  in  the  dis- 
tance, and  only  a  faint  hum  from  the  direction  of 
Sangaan's  abode  told  that  the  celebrating  natives 
were  still  in  high  good  humor. 

"After  all,  Gantline,"  said  Garnett,  "now  that 
these  barkers  are  dry  and  in  good  condition,  we 
might  decide  who's  to  be  owner  of  that  keg,  if  we 
only  had  a  little  more  light,"  and  he  began  to  re- 
load one  of  the  pistols. 

"You're  the  most  bloody-minded  devil  I  ever 
sailed  with,"  growled  Gantline  ;  "but  I'll  just  go  you 
this  time,  for  there's  light  enough  for  me  to  see  to 
bore  a  hole  in  that  stove-in  figure-head  of  yours. 
Here,  give  me  a  bullet  and  powder  and  take  your 
place  over  there  by  that  barrel  of  rice,  and  let  Jim 
here  give  the  word." 

"  If  it's  murder  ye' re  up  to,  I'll  be  for  calling  the 
missionary,"  cried  the  sailor.  "  Faith,  an'  who  iver 
heard  ave  fi'tin'  a  jewel  in  sich  a  dark  hole.  As  fer 
me,  I  won't  witness  it,"  and  he  started  for  the  ladder, 
closely  followed  by  his  shipmate. 

"  Go,  and  be  hanged,"  growled  Garnett ;  "  but 
mark  ye,  this  is  a  fair  fight  and  don't  you  go  trying 

100 


The  Treasure  of  Tiniah  Reef 

to  make  the  missionary  believe  different,  for  I  never 
struck  a  sailor  or  mate  under  me  that  couldn't  have  a 
chance  to  strike  back.  I  don't  belong  to  that  kind 
o'  crowd." 

"  Take  your  place  and  stop  your  jaw  tackle ;  if 
you  don't  hurry  they'll  be  back  with  a  crowd  before 
we  begin,"  said  Gantline,  as  the  sailors  disappeared 
down  the  ladder  and  started  off  "We  ought  to 
have  stopped  them." 

"  Darnation  !  but  it's  dark.  Where  are  you  now?" 
asked  Garnett  from  his  position. 

"  Ready.  Fire  !"  bawled  Gantline,  and  his  pistol 
lit  up  the  darkness. 

Bang  went  Garnett' s,  and  then  there  was  a  dead 
silence. 

"Garnett,"  growled  Gantline. 

"Blast you!  what  is  it?" 

"Did  you  get  a  clip?" 

"  No,  you  infernal  fool ;  but  you  came  within  an 
inch  of  my  ear,  and  I  fired  before  I  put  the  ball  in 
my  pistol.  You  owe  me  a  shot." 

"It'll  be  a  hard  debt  to  collect,  mate,  for  Til 
be  stove  endways  before  we  try  that  again.  Here 
comes  Easyman  with  the  men  now." 

As  he  spoke  there  was  a  rush  of  feet,  and  the  two 
sailors,  followed  by  the  missionary  and  a  crowd  of 
half-sober  natives,  burst  into  the  room  below. 

"  Hello  aloft,  there  !"  sung  out  a  sailor. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Garnett,  quietly, 
from  the  opening  above. 

"  Have  you  done  him  any  harm  ?"  asked  the 
101 


The  Wind-jammers 


missionary,  in  a  voice  that  showed  him  to  be  a  man 
of  action  when  necessary. 

"No,"  answered  Gantline;  "there's  nothing  hap- 
pened." 

A  lantern  flashed  in  the  room,  and  in  a  moment 
Father  Easyman  was  upon  the  ladder. 

In  another  moment  he  was  in  the  loft,  and  the 
sailors  with  a  crowd  of  natives  followed. 

"Now,"  said  the  missionary,  "hand  over  those 
pistols,  or  I  will  have  to  assert  my  authority,  even  as 
the  good  King  David  did  of  old.  I  know  you,  Gar 
nett,  a  fierce  and  unholy  man,  but  you  have  enough 
sins  on  your  soul  now,  so  don't  force  me  to  set  these 
men  upon  you." 

"  By  thunder  !"  growled  the  mate,  "  it's  to  protect 
ourselves  we've  been  forced  to  fire,  to  scare  that 
drunken  Sangaan  out  of  the  room  below.  It's  a 
pretty  mess  he's  been  making  in  a  decent  mission 
house,  coming  here  drinking  that  tar — I  mean  rum, 
and  waking  us  out  of  peaceful  sleep." 

"Fact,  he  woke  us  up  with  his  yelling,"  said 
Gantline,  "and  we  fired  down  below  just  to  scare 
the  crowd  away." 

"  But  what  is  this  the  men  say  about  you  two 
fighting?"  asked  the  missionary. 

"  Oh,  they  were  as  badly  frightened  as  the  nig- 
gers. Hey,  Jim,  ain't  that  so?"  said  Garnett,  and 
he  gave  the  sailor  so  fierce  a  look  that  the  fellow 
stammered  out,  "  Faith,  an'  it  must  'a'  been  so ;  it 
was  so  dark  we  couldn't  see  nothing  at  all." 

"  Well,  come  with  me,  anyway,"  said  the  mission- 

102 


The  Treasure  of  Tinian  Reef 

ary.  "  It  won't  do  for  Sangaan  to  take  it  into  his 
head  to  come  back  here  if  he  gets  drunk.  He  is 
easy  enough  to  manage  sober,  but  you  remember 
the  Petrel  affair." 

"Sangaan  be  blowed,"  grunted  Garnett.  "I  can 
take  care  of  any  crowd  o'  niggers  that  ever  saw  a 
mission,  but  if  you  insist  on  our  cruising  with  a  sky- 
pilot,  why,  we're  agreeable.  Come  on,  Gantline." 

They  followed  the  good  man  down  the  ladder  and 
up  the  village  street  to  his  house.  When  they  were 
in  the  starlight  the  mates  noticed  that  several  of  the 
natives  who  had  followed  the  men  back  carried 
short  spears,  and  one  or  two  had  long  knives  in  the 
belts  of  their  grass  cloths.  When  they  saw  this 
they  began  to  realize  that  perhaps  the  missionary 
was  right  after  all,  and  it  was  just  as  well  that  they 
changed  their  sleeping  quarters  for  the  remainder  of 
the  night. 

The  next  morning  they  patched  the  stove-in  plank 
on  the  boat's  bottom,  and  after  getting  all  the  gear 
into  her,  including  the  keg  into  which  they  had  put 
their  treasure  the  day  before,  they  ran  her  out  into 
the  surf  and  started  off!  Several  natives  helped  them 
until  they  were  beyond  the  first  line  of  breakers, 
but  Garnett  was  in  a  bad  humor  and  accepted  this 
favor  on  their  part  in  very  bad  grace. 

When  the  men  and  Gantline  put  good  way  on 
the  craft  with  their  oars,  the  mate  swore  a  great  oath 
and  rapped  the  nearest  native,  holding  to  the  gun- 
wale, a  sharp  blow  across  the  head  with  his  boat- 
hook  and  bade  them  get  ashore.  This  fellow  gave 

103 


The  Wind-jammers 


a  yell  which  was  taken  up  by  the  crowd  on  the 
beach,  and  instantly  several  rushed  into  the  surf 
carrying  short  spears. 

"Give  way,  bullies,"  grunted  Garnett,  "or  the 
heathen  will  be  aboard  of  us."  And  the  men  bent 
to  their  oars  with  a  hearty  good  will. 

As  it  was,  several  managed  to  get  within  throwing 
distance,  and  a  spear  passed  between  the  mate's 
bow-legs  and  landed  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat 
He  instantly  picked  it  up  and  threw  it  with  such 
wonderful  aim  at  a  native  that  it  cut  a  scratch  in  the 
fellow's  shoulder.  This  had  the  effect  of  stopping 
the  most  ambitious  of  the  crowd,  and  they  con- 
tented themselves  with  yelling  and  brandishing  their 
weapons. 

"Steady,  bullies,"  said  Garnett,  as  they  neared 
the  outer  line  of  combing  water ;  "if  we  miss  it  this 
time  there'll  be  trouble." 

The  old  mate  balanced  himself  carefully  on  his 
bow-legs  and  grasped  the  steering  oar  firmly  as  they 
neared  the  place  where  the  sea  fell  over  the  outer 
barrier. 

They  went  ahead  slowly  until  there  came  a  com- 
paratively smooth  spell,  then  they  went  for  the  open 
water  as  hard  as  they  could. 

As  they  reached  almost  clear,  a  heavy  sea  rose 
before  them  with  its  crest  growing  sharper  and 
sharper  every  moment.  Garnett,  with  set  jaw  and 
straining  muscles,  held  her  true,  and  with  a  "Give 
way,  bullies,"  hissed  between  his  teeth,  the  boat's 
head  rose  almost  perpendicular  for  an  instant  on  the 

104 


The  Treasure  of  Tinian  Reef 

side  of  the  moving  wall.  Then  with  a  smothering 
roar  it  broke  under  and  over  her  and  she  fell  with  a 
crash  into  the  smooth  sea  beyond. 

"Drive  her  !"  he  roared,  as  the  half-swamped  craft 
lay  almost  motionless  ;  and  Gantline,  bracing  his  feet, 
gave  three  gigantic  strokes  and  his  oar  snapped  short 
off  at  the  rowlock. 

"  Drive  her  through  !"  he  roared  again,  as  one  of 
the  men  turned  with  a  scared  look  at  the  sea  ahead. 
"  Drive  her  or  I'll  drive  this  boat-hook  through  you  !" 
and  he  made  a  motion  towards  the  bottom  of  the 
boat.  The  two  remaining  oars  bent  and  strained 
under  the  pressure,  and  in  another  instant  they  rose 
on  a  smooth  crest  and  went  clear,  while  the  sea  fell 
but  two  fathoms  astern. 

"Lord  love  ye,  Garnett,  but  that  was  a  close 
shave,"  panted  Gantline;  "give  us  the  bailer  and 
let  me  get  some  of  this  water  out  of  her.  It's  as- 
tonishing how  those  seas  deceive  one,  for  from  here 
it  looks  as  smooth  on  the  reef  as  the  top  of  Easy- 
man's  head.  It's  evident  that  you  calculate  to  go 
out  of  the  island  trade  on  the  profits  of  this  voyage. 
They  would  have  handled  us  rough  enough  had  we 
been  stove  down  on  the  reef  again." 

Garnett  muttered  something,  as  he  glared  astern 
at  the  crowd  on  the  beach,  and  passed  Gantline  the 
bailer  from  the  after-locker. 

He  then  headed  the  boat  for  the  schooner,  which 
had  been  working  in  all  the  morning,  and  now  lay 
hove-to  about  a  mile  distant. 

In  a  little  while  they  were  on  board  and  Captain 
105 


The  Wind-jammers 


Foregaff  was  handed  the  receipts  of  his  trade,  which 
he  carried  below  and  deposited  in  a  strong  box ; 
making  a  note  afterwards,  in  a  small  book,  of  the 
percentage  due  his  mates.  Then  he  came  on  deck, 
and  as  the  boat  was  dropped  astern  he  drew  away 
his  head-sheets  and  stood  to  the  eastward. 

On  going  forward  he  noticed  the  keg  they  had 
brought  back  with  them  and  instantly  demanded  to 
know  its  contents. 

"  It's  a  find  o'  grease,"  said  Garnett,  as  he  picked 
it  up  and  carried  it  aft,  where  he  deposited  it  care- 
fully in  the  cockpit 

"Find  o'  what?"  asked  Foregaff,  as  he  and  Gant- 
line  followed  hard  in  his  wake. 

"  Find  o'  whale  grease,"  said  the  mate.  "  It's 
the  stuff  that  sells  so  high  in  the  States.  I  found  it 
in  the  surf,  and  Gantline  here  has  been  trying  to 
prove  half  of  it  his  because  he  was  along  with  me." 

"  Well,  where,  in  the  name  o'  Davy  Jones,  do  I 
come  in  on  this  deal?"  bawled  Foregaff  "Ain't  we 
running  this  business  on  shares,  I  want'er  know?" 

"So  far  as  concerns  trade,  you're  right;  but  d'ye 
mean  to  say  that  what  I  find  ain't  my  own  ?"  said 
the  mate  in  a  menacing  tone. 

"Trade  be  blowed  !  Gantline  and  I  come  in  on 
this,  share  an'  share  alike.  Knock  in  the  head  o' 
the  keg  an'  let's  have  a  look  at  it."  And  the  skip- 
per's eyes  gleamed  with  anticipation. 

Gantline  reached  an  iron  belaying-pin  and  quickly 
knocked  in  the  top  of  the  keg  and  tore  off  the 
pieces. 

106 


The  Treasure  of  Tinian  Reef 

"You  see,  it's  ill-smellin'  stuff,"  grunted  Garnett, 
"  and  its  value  is  according  to  its  smell."  He  bent 
over  the  keg  and  peered  into  it.  "  It's  pretty  hard," 
he  continued,  "  when  a  man's  been  through  all  the 
danger  and  trouble  o'  getting  a  prize  to  have  to  divy 
up  with  them  that  ain't  in  the  contract " 

"  Gord  A 'mighty  !  Hard  down  the  wheel  there  ! 
Spring  your  luff!"  he  roared,  as  he  sprang  to  his 
feet.  "  Pig  grease  !  s'help  me,  the  scoundrel's  robbed 
us!" 

The  men  rushed  to  the  sheets  as  the  schooner 
came  up  on  the  wind  and  headed  for  the  island 
again,  while  Gantline  and  Foregaff  bent  over  the 
open  keg. 

"  'Tis  as  good  lard  as  ever  fried  doughnut,"  said 
the  skipper,  as  he  stuck  his  finger  into  the  mass  and 
then  drew  it  through  his  lips,  while  Gantline  glared 
at  it  as  though  it  was  the  ghost  of  Father  Tellman's 

Pig- 

"  Clear  away  the  gun  for'ard,  and  get " 

"Hello,  what's  the  matter?"  asked  the  skipper, 
as  Garnett  was  getting  ready  for  action. 

"  Why,  we  can't  get  ashore  there  again.  They 
well-nigh  murdered  us  as  it  was,"  said  the  mate. 

"  Well,  what  good  can  we  do  with  that  gun,  then  ? 
It  won't  throw  a  ball  across  the  surf,  let  alone  to  the 
village.  You  must  have  been  up  to  some  deviltry 
ashore."  And  the  skipper  eyed  the  mates  sus- 
piciously. 

"  Devil  be  hanged !  We  were  as  soft  as  you 
please,  but  they  were  for  mischief  from  the  time 

107 


The  Wind-jammers 


we  rolled  over  in  the  surf.  I  guess,  perhaps,  you'd 
better  go  ashore,  though,  for  old  Easyman  don't  like 
me." 

"  Not  by  the  holy  Pope,"  said  the  skipper,  with  a 
grin.  ''You  don't  catch  me  on  that  beach  for  all 
the  wliale  grease  afloat,  or  ashore  either,  for  that 
matter.  If  that's  the  game,  we  might  as  well  stand 
off  again." 

"  Let's  at  least  have  a  try  at  that  sky-pilot's 
house,"  growled  Garnett  "Give  me  a  couple  of 
charges  and  I'll  see  what  I  can  do,  anyhow." 

"  As  for  that,  go  ahead  ;  but  no  good' 11  come  of 
it,"  muttered  the  skipper. 

Garnett  was  on  the  forecastle  in  a  few  minutes  with 
several  cartridges  for  the  old  twelve-pounder. 

The  schooner  was  rapidly  nearing  the  surf,  and 
Foregaff  could  see  the  natives  with  great  distinctness 
through  his  glass. 

When  she  was  as  near  as  was  safe  to  navigate,  she 
yawed  and  Garnett  fired. 

The  shot  struck  the  crest  of  a  comber,  in  spite  of 
all  he  could  do  to  elevate  the  gun,  and  ricochetted 
on  to  the  sand,  where  a  native  picked  it  up  and  danced 
a  peculiarly  aggressive  dance  while  he  held  it  aloft 
in  his  hand 

The  flag  on  the  mission  dipped  gracefully  three 
times  while  Garnett  loaded  for  a  second  shot 

"  If  I  only  had  a  shell  Fd  make  those  niggers  see 
something,"  he  muttered,  as  he  rammed  home  the 
charge, 

"  Fire  !"     And  the  gun  banged  again. 
lot 


The  Treasure  of  Tinian  Red 

The  flag  dipped  again  in  the  breeze,  and  several 
natives,  joining  hands,  danced  wildly  to  and  fro. 

"  Keep  her  off!"  bawled  the  skipper,  with  a  broad 
smile  on  his  face.  "  Done  by  a  nigger  chief,"  he 
muttered  to  himself.  "  I  want'er  know,  I  want'er 
know." 


THE    LE    MAIRE    LIGHT 

IT  had  been  calm  all  day,  and  the  dull  light  of  the 
overcast  sky  made  the  sea  have  that  peculiar 
black  tint  seen  in  this  latitude.  It  rolled  silently 
with  the  swell,  like  a  heaving  world  of  oily  ink,  and, 
although  we  were  almost  midway  between  the  Falk- 
lands  and  the  Straits  of  Magellan,  Captain  Green 
determined  to  try  a  deep-sea  sounding.  This  proved 
barren  of  result  with  a  hundred-fathom  line  on  end. 

The  silent  calm  continued,  and  the  weird,  lone- 
some cry  of  a  penguin  greeted  our  ears  for  the  first 
time  on  the  voyage. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  a  light  breeze  sprang  up 
from  the  westward.  As  the  ship  gathered  headway, 
a  school  of  Antarctic  porpoises  came  plunging  and 
jumping  after  her.  The  toggle-iron  was  brought 
out,  and  the  carpenter  tried  his  luck  at  harpooning 
one  on  the  jump.  After  lacerating  the  backs  of 
several  he  gave  it  up  and  turned  the  iron  over  to 
Gantline,  with  the  hope  that  he  might  do  better. 

The  old  mate  took  the  iron  in  his  right  hand  and 
balanced  it  carefully.  Then  he  took  several  short 
coils  of  line  in  his  left  hand,  and,  bracing  himself 
firmly  on  the  backstays  just  forward  of  the  cathead, 
waited  for  a  "  throw."  Almost  instantly  a  big  fel- 
low came  jumping  and  plunging  towards  the  vessel, 
swerving  from  side  to  side  with  lightning-like  ra- 
pidity. He  passed  unHer  the  bowsprit  end  so 


The  Le  Maire  Light 


quickly  that  Gantline's  half- raised  arm  was  hardly 
rigid  before  it  was  too  late  to  throw.  Suddenly 
back  he  came  like  a  flash  across  the  ship's  cut-water. 
There  was  a  sharp  "swish,"  and  the  line  was  trailing 
taut  through  the  snatch-block  with  three  men  heav- 
ing on  it  as  hard  as  they  could.  It  was  done  so 
quickly  that  it  seemed  less  than  a  second  from  the 
time  the  animal  flashed  past  to  when  he  hung  trans- 
fixed a  few  feet  above  the  sea  beneath  the  bowsprit 
end. 

Chips,  who  had  harpooned  many  a  porpoise  in  the 
low  latitudes,  was  filled  with  admiration,  and  instantly 
lent  a  hand  to  get  the  striped  fellow  on  deck. 

I  went  aft,  for  it  was  my  watch  on  deck,  and  we 
expected  to  sight  land  before  darkness  compelled  us 
to  stand  off  to  the  eastward.  At  five  o'clock  a  man 
stationed  in  the  mizzen-top  sung  out  that  he  could 
see  something  on  the  weather-beam  to  the  westward, 
and  soon  by  the  aid  of  the  glass  we  made  out  the 
high,  grim  cliffs  of  Staten  Land  looming  indistinctly 
through  the  haze  on  the  horizon.  The  first  land 
sighted  for  seventy  days. 

The  ship's  head  was  again  pointed  well  up  to  the 
wind  to  try  and  turn  the  "last  corner"  of  the  world, 
— Cape  Horn. 

Captain  Zack  Green  stood  looking  at  the  land  a 
long  time,  and  then  remarked,— 

"  I  would  have  gone  through  the  Straits  ten  years 
ago,  but  I  don't  want  to  get  in  there  any  more." 

"What!"  I  asked,  "would  you  take  a  vessel  as 
heavy  as  we  are  through  the  Straits  of  Magellan  ?" 


The  Wind-jammers 


"  Straits  of  thunder  !"  he  replied.  "  Who  said 
anything  about  going  through  the  Straits  of  Magel- 
lan with  a  deep  loaded  clipper  ship  ?  Man  alive  ! 
That's  the  way  of  it.  Whenever  anybody  talks  of 
going  through  the  Straits,  every  eternal  idiot  thinks 
it  the  Magellan,  when  he  ought  to  know  no  sailing 
ship  ever  goes  through  Smith's  Channel.  Strait  of 
Le  Maire,  man,  between  Staten  Land  and  Tierra  del 
Fuego.  It  would  have  saved  us  thirty  miles  west- 
ing, and  thirty  miles  may  be  worth  thirty  days  when 
you  are  to  the  s'uth'ard." 

I  admitted  that  what  he  said  was  true,  but  as 
people  knew  very  little  of  this  part  of  the  world, 
they  usually  associated  the  word  "  Straits"  down  here 
with  the  Magellan. 

"Well,"  said  he,  "they  ought  to  know  better,  for 
nothing  but  small  sailing  craft  and  steamers  could 
go  through  there  without  standing  a  good  chance  of 
running  foul  of  the  rocks.  It's  the  Le  Maire  Strait 
I  was  thinking  of;  but  even  that  is  dangerous,  for 
there  is  no  light  there  any  more,  and  the  current 
swirls  and  cuts  through  like  a  tide-race.  I've  been 
going  to  the  eastward  since  they  had  trouble  with 
the  light  and  can't  get  any  one  to  stay  and  tend  it" 

"  What's  the  matter?"  I  asked ;  "  is  it  too  lonely?" 

"No,"  he  answered,  slowly,  "it  isn't  that  alto- 
gether, though  I  reckon  it's  lonely  enough  with 
nothing  but  the  swirling  tide  on  one  side  and  barren 
rocks  and  tussac  on  the  other.  I  was  ashore  there 
once  and  saw  the  fellows  who  ran  the  light,  before 
they  died,  and  the  head  man  told  me  some  queer 

112 


The  Le  Maire  Light 


things.  If  s  a  bad  place  for  the  falling  sickness,  too, 
and  that's  against  it,  but  the  mystery  of  the  light- 
keepers  was  enough  to  scare  a  man. 

"  I  knew  old  Tom  Jackson,  the  skipper  of  the  re- 
lief boat,  and  he  asked  me  to  go  over  to  the  light 
with  him.  If  s  only  a  day's  run  from  the  Falklands, 
and,  as  I  was  laid  up  with  a  topmast  gone,  I  went. 

"We  had  a  whaling  steamer  to  go  over  in.  A 
vessel  about  one  hundred  tons,  with  an  infernal  sort 
of  cannon  mounted  for'ard  which  threw  a  bomb- 
harpoon  big  enough  to  stave  the  side  of  a  frigate. 

"  On  the  way  over  Jackson  told  me  how  hard  it 
was  to  get  any  one  to  stay  at  the  light,  and  how  he 
came  across  the  two  men  who  were  now  keepers. 

"  Two  men  had  drifted  ashore  near  the  settlement 
lashed  to  the  thwarts  of  a  half-sunken  whale-boat. 
They  were  all  but  dead  and  unable  to  speak 
Finally,  after  careful  nursing,  one  began  to  show 
some  life,  and  he  raved  about  a  lost  ship  and  the 
Cooper's  Hole. 

"You  see,  over  there  in  the  South  Orkneys  there 
is  a  hole  through  the  cliffs  about  a  hundred  feet  wide, 
with  the  rocks  rising  straight  up  hundreds  of  feet  on 
both  sides.  Inside  this  narrow  passage,  which  is 
like  an  open  door,  is  the  great  hole,  miles  around 
inside,  with  water  enough  for  all  the  vessels  afloat  to 
lie  in  without  fouling. 

"This  fellow  raved  about  driving  a  ship  through 
the  hole  during  a  storm.  He  talked  of  revenge, 
and  would  laugh  when  he  raved  about  the  captain 

of  the  ship. 

8  113 


The  Wind-jammers 


"  When  these  men  were  well  again  they  told  a 
straight  story  about  the  loss  of  the  ship  Indian.  As 
near  as  they  could  make  out,  they  had  been  fifteen 
days  in  that  open  boat,  which  they  clung  to  when 
the  vessel  foundered  off  the  Horn.  They  had 
nothing  saved  but  the  rags  they  came  ashore  in,  so 
they  were  glad  enough  to  take  Jackson's  offer  of 
two  hundred  pounds  a  year  to  tend  the  Le  Maire 
light. 

"We  arrived  off  the  light  the  next  afternoon. 
There  was  no  place  to  land  except  on  the  rocks, 
where  the  heave  of  the  swell  made  it  dangerous. 
It  was  dead  calm  this  evening,  so  we  got  ashore  all 
right.  As  we  climbed  the  rocks  towards  the  light 
the  fellows  there  came  out  of  the  small  house  to 
meet  us. 

"The  head  keeper  walked  in  front,  and  he  was 
the  queerest-looking  critter  that  ever  wore  breeches. 
His  hair  was  half  a  fathom  long  and  the  color  of 
rope  yarn,  and  his  eye  was  as  green  and  watery  as  a 
cuttlefish's.  The  other  fellow  was  somewhat  younger, 
but  he  seemed  taken  up  with  the  idea  that  his  feet 
were  the  only  things  in  nature  worth  looking  at,  so 
I  paid  little  attention  to  him. 

"  The  older  fellow  with  long  hair  grunted  some- 
thing to  Jackson  and  held  out  his  hand,  which  the 
skipper  shook  heartily. 

"'Well,'  he  roared,  'how's  things  on  the  rocks? 
Damme  if  I  don't  wish  I  was  a  light-keeper  myself, 
so's  I  could  sit  around  and  admire  the  sun  rise  and 
set' 

114 


The  Le  Maire  Light 


"'I  wish  to  blazes  you  was/  grunted  the  long- 
haired  heathen  ;  'as  for  me,  I'm  about  tired  of  this 
here  job,  and  you  might  as  well  tell  the  governor 
that  if  he  gives  me  the  whole  East  Falkland  I 
wouldn't  stay  here  through  another  winter.' 

"  *  That's  just  the  way  with  a  man  soon  as  he  gets 
a  soft  job.  Never  satisfied.  Now,  here's  my  friend 
Green  just  waiting  to  step  into  your  shoes  the  min- 
ute you  think  two  hundred  pounds  a  year  is  too 
infernal  much  for  a  gent  like  you  to  live  on.' 

"  The  old  fellow  looked  hard  at  me  with  his  fishy 
eyes,  but  said  nothing. 

"  *  No,'  went  on  Jackson,  '  you  wouldn't  be  satis- 
fied with  ten  thousand.  What's  the  matter,  anyhow  ? 
Have  you  seen  the  bird  lately  ?' 

"At  this  the  fellow  glanced  around  quickly  and 
took  in  every  point  of  the  compass,  but  he  didn't 
answer. 

"Finally  he  mumbled,  'To-night's  the  night' 
Then  he  turned  to  me  and  asked,  'Be  you  going 
to  stay  ashore  to-night  ?' 

" '  No,'  I  answered,  '  not  if  we  can  get  back  on 
board.' 

"  Then  the  fellow  turned  and  led  the  way  to  the 
light  and  Jackson  and  I  followed  after  him. 

"The  light-house  was  built  of  heavy  timber, 
brought  ashore  from  a  vessel,  and  the  lantern  was 
one  of  those  small  lenses  like  what  you  see  in  the 
rivers  of  the  States.  It  had  a  small  platform  around 
it,  guarded  by  an  iron  hand-rail,  which,  I  should 
judge,  was  about  fifty  feet  above  the  rocks.  Outside 

"5 


The  Wind-jammers 


the  lens  was  the  ordinary  glass  covering,  making  a 
small  room  about  the  lantern,  and  outside  of  all 
was  a  heavy  wire  netting  to  keep  birds  from  driving 
through  the  light  during  a  storm. 

"  There  were  some  repairs  needed,  and  the  lamp- 
ist  had  to  go  back  on  board  the  steamer  for  some 
tools.  He  had  hardly  started  before  the  dull  haze 
settled  over  the  dark  water,  and  in  half  an  hour 
you  couldn't  see  ten  fathoms  in  any  direction. 

" '  By  thunder  !  Green,  we  are  in  for  a  night  of  it, 
sure/  said  Jackson  to  me.  'There'll  be  no  chance 
of  that  boat  coming  back  while  this  lasts.' 

"  'Let  her  go,'  I  replied  ;  '  I'd  just  as  soon  spend 
a  night  in  the  lantern  as  in  that  infernal  hooker 
soaked  in  sour  oil  and  jammed  full  of  bedbugs.  I 
don't  know  but  what  I'd  rather  like  the  change/ 

" '  Like  it  or  not,  here  we  are,  so  we  might  as  well 
take  a  look  around  before  dark.' 

"We  hadn't  gone  more  than  half  a  mile  through 
the  gigantic  tussac-grass  when  I  felt  a  peculiar  sen- 
sation at  my  heart.  The  next  moment  I  was  lying 
flat  on  my  back  and  Jackson  was  doing  all  he  could 
to  bring  me  to.  I  had  the  falling  sickness,  and  I 
realized  what  the  governor  meant  by  the  order  that 
no  person  should  be  allowed  to  travel  alone  on  the 
Falklands. 

"  In  a  little  while  I  grew  better,  and  with  Jackson's 
help  managed  to  get  back  to  the  light,  faint  and 
weak. 

"  That  old  long-haired  fellow  was  there  waiting  for 
us,  and  he  expressed  about  as  much  surprise  and 

116 


The  Le  Maire  Light 


feeling  at  my  mishap  as  if  I  had  been  an  old  pen- 
guin come  ashore  to  die.  However,  after  I  had  a 
glass  of  spirits  and  eaten  some  of  the  truck  he  had 
cooked  for  supper,  I  felt  better.  Then  the  old  fel- 
low went  into  the  lantern  and  lit  up  for  the  night 
He  then  came  back  and  joined  us  in  the  house, 
where  we  sat  talking. 

"  '  It's  the  first  quarter  o'  the  moon  an'  third  day,' 
said  he,  coming  in  and  sitting  down  at  the  table  and 
lighting  his  pipe  from  the  sperm-oil  lamp. 

" '  I  never  made  any  remarks  to  the  contrary/ 
said  Jackson. 

" '  It's  this  night,  sure,  and  the  Strait  will  be 
crowded  before  morning  ;  then  he'll  be  here.' 

"'Who?'  I  asked. 

"Old  man  Jackson  laughed.  *  That's  his  friend 
the  bird,'  he  said,  looking  towards  me.  '  He  has  a 
visitor  every  now  and  then,  you  see,  so  it  isn't  so 
blooming  lonesome  here  after  all.' 

"  The  keeper  looked  hard  at  me  with  his  fishy  eyes, 
and  then  continued. 

"  *  He  has  been  here  twice  before/  he  said. 

"  '  Well,  suppose  he  has/  snapped  Jackson. 

"  *  If  you  can  get  another  man,  get  him.  I  don't 
want  to  be  here  when  he  comes  again.' 

"  I  looked  at  Jackson  and  saw  his  face  contracted 
into  a  frown.  *  It's  some  sailor's  joke/  said  he. 
'  Nobody  but  a  fool  would  send  a  message  tied  to 
the  leg  of  an  albatross.' 

"  '  It's  a  joke  I  don't  like,  an'  I'd  like  you  to  take 
us  away.' 

"7 


The  Wind-jammers 


" '  Well,  joke  or  no  joke,  you'll  have  to  stay  until 
I  get  some  one  to  take  your  place,'  and  Jackson 
filled  his  pipe  and  smoked  vigorously. 

"  I  must  have  been  dozing  in  my  chair,  for  it  was 
quite  late  and  the  fire  in  the  stove  almost  out,  when 
I  was  aroused  by  a  peculiar  sound. 

"  I  noticed  Jackson  start  up  from  the  table  and  then 
stand  rigid  in  the  centre  of  the  room. 

"  There  was  a  deep  moaning  coming  from  the  water 
that  sounded  like  wind  rushing  through  the  rigging 
of  a  ship.  Then  I  heard  cries  of  men  and  the 
tumbling  rush  of  water,  as  if  a  vessel  were  tearing 
through  it  like  mad.  Jackson  sprang  to  the  door 
and  was  outside  in  an  instant.  I  followed,  but  the 
old  keeper  sat  quietly  smoking. 

"  Outside,  the  light  from  the  tower  shone  like  a 
huge  eye  through  the  gloom,  and  as  the  fog  was  thick, 
it  lit  up  the  calm  sea  only  a  few  fathoms  beyond  the 
ledge.  This  made  the  blackness  beyond  all  the 
more  intense. 

"  *  That  vessel  will  be  on  the  rocks  if  they  don't 
look  sharp,'  said  Jackson.  '  Ship  ahoy  !'  he  bawled 
in  his  deep  base  voice,  but  the  sound  died  away  in 
the  vast  stillness  about  us. 

"  '  There's  no  wind,'  said  I ;  '  but  I  distinctly  heard 
the  rattle  of  blocks  and  snaps  of  slatting  canvas  as 
she  came  about' 

"  We  stood  there  staring  into  the  night,  and  were 
aware  of  the  presence  of  the  old  keeper,  who  had 
joined  us.  Suddenly  we  heard  the  rushing  sound 
again,  and  it  seemed  as  if  a  mighty  wind  was  blow- 

118 


The  Le  Maire  Light 


ing  through  the  Strait  There  were  faint  cries  as  if 
at  a  great  distance.  Then  the  noise  of  waring  braces 
coupled  with  the  sharp  snapping  of  slatting  canvas. 

"  Jackson  looked  at  me,  and  there  was  a  strange 
look  in  his  eyes. 

"'  They'll  pass  through  all  night/  said  the  old 
keeper,  '  and  in  the  morning  there  won't  be  a  sail 
in  sight,  calm  or  storm.' 

"  We  stood  in  the  fog  for  half  an  hour  listening 
to  the  noises  in  the  Strait,  while  the  glare  from  the 
light  made  the  mist-drifts  form  into  gigantic  shapes 
which  came  and  melted  again  into  the  darkness. 
Once  again  Jackson  went  to  the  water's  edge  and 
bawled  into  the  blackness.  The  long-haired  keeper 
smiled  at  his  attempts,  and  his  eyes  had  a  strange 
glow  in  them  like  the  phosphor  flares  in  water  of 
the  tropics. 

"  '  The  devil  take  this  infernal  place  !'  said  Jackson. 
'  I  never  heard  of  so  many  vessels  passing  through 
here  in  a  whole  season.  The  whole  Cape  Horn 
fleet  are  standing  to  the  s'uth'ard  to-night.' 

"  I  felt  a  little  creepy  up  the  back  as  we  went  into 
the  house.  Jackson  made  up  the  fire,  while  I  lay 
in  a  bunk. 

"  *  It's  been  so  since  the  light  went  out  last  winter; 
but  it  was  the  fault  of  the  oil,  not  me/  said  the  old 
keeper. 

"'Why  didn't  you  stay  awake  and  look  to  it?' 
asked  Jackson. 

"  '  It  was  a  terrible  night,  and  I  got  wet  I  sat  by 
the  stove  and  fell  asleep,  and  when  I  woke  up  it 

119 


The  Wind-jammers 


was  daylight,  and  the  light  was  out  That  bird  was 
there  on  the  platform.' 

"  Jackson  talked  to  the  old  fellow  sharply,  but  I 
finally  fell  asleep.  He  aroused  me  at  daylight,  and 
I  went  outside. 

"The  sun  was  shining  brightly,  and  the  light  air 
had  drifted  the  fog  back  across  the  Strait  to  the 
ragged  shore  of  Tierra  del  Fuego,  where  it  hung 
like  a  huge  gray  pall,  darkening  underneath.  To 
the  northward  lay  the  steamer,  but  besides  her  there 
was  not  a  floating  thing  visible. 

"The  younger  keeper,  with  the  hang-dog  look, 
started  up  the  tower  to  put  out  the  light,  and  I 
followed,  taking  the  telescope  to  have  a  look  around. 
We  had  just  reached  the  platform  when  there  wad- 
dled out  from  behind  the  lantern  the  most  gigantic 
albatross  I  ever  saw.  The  creature  gave  a  hoarse 
squawk  and  stretched  its  wings  slowly  outward  as  if 
about  to  rise.  But  instead  of  going  it  stood  mo- 
tionless, while  the  keeper  gave  a  gasp  and  nearly 
fell  over  the  rail,  his  face  showing  the  wildest  terror. 

"  'That's  him,'  he  whispered. 

"And  I  must  say  I  felt  startled  at  seeing  a  bird 
four  fathoms  across  the  wings.  I  stood  looking  at 
the  creature  a  moment,  and  was  aware  of  something 
dangling  from  its  leg.  Then  I  went  slowly  towards 
it.  It  stood  still  while  I  bent  down  and  unfastened 
the  piece  of  canvas  hanging  to  its  leg,  but  it  kept 
its  great  black  eye  fixed  on  me ;  then  it  snapped 
its  heavy  hooked  beak  savagely,  and  I  started 
backward. 

120 


The  Le  Maire  Light 


"The  creature  dropped  gracefully  over  the  edge 
of  the  platform,  and,  falling  in  a  great  circular  sweep, 
rose  again  and  held  its  way  down  the  Strait  I 
watched  it  with  the  telescope  until  it  disappeared  in 
the  distance,  and  then  swept  the  horizon  for  signs 
of  a  sail.  There  was  nothing  in  sight,  and  the  sea 
was  like  oil  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  I  put 
down  the  glass  and  examined  the  piece  of  rag. 
It  was  nothing  but  a  bit  of  tarred  canvas,  with 
nothing  on  it  to  tell  where  it  came  from.  The 
keeper  asked  to  see  it,  and  he  could  make  no  more 
of  it  than  I  could.  Then  we  went  down,  and  as  we 
approached  the  house  the  old  keeper  came  out  of 
the  door  and  looked  around  in  the  air  above  him. 
I  held  out  the  piece  of  canvas  and  he  gave  a 
start 

"  *  He  was  there,  then  ?'  he  asked. 

"  '  If  you  mean  that  all-fired  big  albatross,  yes,' 
I  answered.  '  But  why  the  devil  are  you  so  scared 
of  him?' 

"The  old  fellow  didn't  answer,  but  stood  looking 
at  the  piece  of  canvas,  saying,  '  Only  one  left  This 
is  the  third  time.' 

"  '  Only  one  fool !'  I  cried.  '  How,  by  Davy,  can 
you  read  anything  on  that  bit  of  canvas  when  it's  as 
blank  as  a  fog-bank  ?' 

"  *  And  you  are  that  fool,'  he  replied,  in  a  low  tone, 
so  smoothly  that  I  damned  him  fore  and  aft  for 
every  kind  of  idiot  I  could  think  of. 

"  '  Let  him  alone,'  said  Jackson,  hearing  the  rum- 
pus. 'All  these  outlying  keepers  are  as  crazy  as 

121 


The  Wind-jammers 


mollyhawks.     It's  some  joke,  or  some  fellow's  trying 
to  get  the  place.' 

"  In  a  little  while  we  went  aboard  the  steamer  and 
started  for  the  Falklands. 

"  I  was  still  there  three  weeks  later,  when  two 
small  sealing  schooners  came  in  and  unloaded  their 
pelts.  The  men  aboard  them  told  a  strange  tale  of 
a  wreck  in  the  great  hole  of  the  Orkneys.  They 
had  gone  into  the  crater  after  seals  and  had  found  a 
large  ship  driven  into  a  cleft  in  the  rocky  wall.  Her 
bow  was  clear  of  the  water,  but  her  stern  was 
fathoms  deep  in  it,  so  they  couldn't  tell  her  name. 
On  their  way  up  they  had  gone  to  the  westward  and 
come  through  the  Le  Maire.  They  had  hunted  for 
two  days  off  the  rocks  and  reported  the  light  out 
both  nights. 

"  Jackson  started  off  in  a  day  or  so  to  see  what 
was  the  matter,  and  he  took  a  goose-gun  for  that 
albatross.  When  he  reached  the  light  there  wasn't 
a  sign  of  those  keepers.  Everything  was  in  its 
place  and  the  house  was  open,  but  there  was  noth- 
ing to  tell  how  the  fellows  left 

"  In  a  little  while  he  noticed  the  head  of  an  alba- 
tross peering  over  the  platform  of  the  light,  and  he 
tried  to  get  a  sight  at  it.  But  the  critter  seemed  to 
know  better  than  to  show  itself. 

"  He  finally  started  up  the  ladder  and  gained  the 
platform.  There  were  the  two  keepers,  stark  and 
stiff,  one  of  them  holding  an  oil-can  in  his  dead 
grip.  The  sight  gave  him  such  a  turn  that  when  the 
giant  bird  gave  a  squawk  and  started  off  he  missed 


The  Le  Maire  Light 


it  clean,  although  it  wasn't  three  fathoms  from  the 
muzzle  of  his  gun.  He  yelled  to  the  men  below  to 
come  up,  but  by  the  time  they  got  there  the  whole 
top  was  afire  from  the  spilled  oil  catching  at  the 
flash,  or  burning  wad,  from  his  gun. 

"There  was  no  way  to  put  the  fire  out,  so  they 
had  the  satisfaction  of  climbing  down  and  watching 
the  tower  burn  before  their  eyes. 

"  It's  hard  to  say  just  how  those  keepers  died.  It 
may  have  been  the  falling  sickness,  or  it  may  have 
been  natives  that  killed  them.  As  for  me,  I've  be- 
lieved there  was  something  unnatural  about  the 
whole  affair,  for  I've  never  heard  of  an  albatross 
landing  on  a  light  before.  There  was  some  talk 
about  fear  of  mutiny  aboard  the  Indian  by  her 
owners,  but  there  was  no  ground  for  it  Those  fel- 
lows probably  told  a  straight  story.  There  was  a 
boat  picked  up  to  the  northward  of  the  Strait  some 
time  afterwards,  but  there  was  no  name  on  it,  and  the 
only  man  in  it  was  dead.  He  had  several  ugly  knife 
wounds,  but  it  proved  nothing. 

"There's  room  to  the  eastward  of  the  island  for 
me.  You  had  better  watch  those  fore-  and  mizzen- 
t' gallant-sails, — it  looks  as  if  we  may  get  a  touch  of 
the  Cape  before  morning." 

I  went  forward  and  started  some  men  aft  to  the 
mizzen.  We  were  about  to  begin  the  struggle 
"around  the  corner."  The  deepening  gloom  of  the 
winter  evening  increased,  and  the  distant  flares  and 
flashes  from  the  Land  of  Fire  gave  ominous  thoughts 
of  the  future  in  store  for  us. 

123 


THE   BACKSLIDERS 

a  W  W  TAL,  I  swow  !"  exclaimed  Captain  Breeze, 
\l\l  as  ne  came  to  the  break  of  the  poop  the 
morning  after  the  Northern  Light  had 
dropped  down  the  bay  to  await  the  tide  before  put- 
ting to  sea.  The  object  that  had  called  forth  this 
remark  was  the  figure  of  a  very  pretty  and  strongly 
built  woman,  dressed  in  a  close-fitting  brown  dress 
with  a  white  apron,  standing  at  the  galley  door  wait- 
ing to  receive  the  breakfast  things  from  the  "  doctor," 
who  was  busy  with  the  morning  meal  inside. 

It  was  quite  early  and  the  mates  were  forward 
getting  the  men  to  the  windlass.  The  tug  was  along- 
side waiting  to  take  the  tow  as  soon  as  the  anchor 
came  to  the  cat-head.  The  passengers  were  still 
below  in  their  bunks  and  the  skipper  had  only  just 
turned  out.  He  was  bound  out  on  a  long  voyage  to 
the  West  Coast,  and  both  he  and  his  mates  had  en- 
joyed a  more  than  usually  convivial  time  the  even- 
ing before.  This  accounted  for  the  skipper  not 
having  seen  his  stewardess  until  the  next  morning, 
for  she  had  come  aboard  quietly  and  had  gone  un- 
perceived  to  her  state-room  in  the  forward  cabin. 
He  had  asked  for  a  good  stewardess  this  voyage,  for 
he  had  several  female  passengers.  The  company 
had  evidently  tried  to  accommodate  him,  for  this 
girl  certainly  looked  everything  that  was  good  and 
nothing  bad.  He  stood  gazing  at  her  in  amazement 

124 


The  Backsliders 


Stewardesses  on  deep-water  ships  were  not  of  this 
breed.  Forward,  the  men  manned  the  brakes,  and  a 
lusty  young  fellow  looking  aft  from  the  clew  of  his 
eye  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  vision  at  the  galley  door 
and  broke  forth,  all  hands  joining  in  the  chorus, — 

"  A  Bully  sailed  from  Bristol  town, 
Singihg  yo,  ho,  ho,  oh,  blow  a  man  down  ; 
A  Bully  sailed,  and  made  a  tack, 
Hooray  for  the  Yankee  Jack, 
Waiting  with  his  yard  aback, 
Soo-aye  !  Hooray  !  Oh,  knock  a  man  down." 

The  rising  sun  shone  upon  the  white  topsails  hang- 
ing in  the  buntlines  and  glittered  upon  the  brass  bin- 
nacle and  companion-rail.  In  the  bright  light  the  hair 
of  the  young  woman  at  the  galley  door  looked  like 
burnished  copper  or  a  deep  red  gold.  The  curve 
of  her  rosy  cheek  was  perfect,  and  every  now  and 
then  the  skipper  caught  a  glimpse  of  red  lips  and  a 
gleam  of  white  teeth. 

"  Wai,  I  swow  !"  he  exclaimed  again. 

"Anchor's  short,  sir!"  came  the  hoarse  cry  of 
Mr.  Enlis  from  the  head  of  the  top-gallant-forecastle. 

"Sink  me  if  that  ain't  the  all-aroundest,  fore  an' 
aft,  alow  an'  aloft,  three  skysail-yard,  close-sailin' 
little  clipper  I " 

"Anchor's  short,  sir  !"  came  Garnett's  bawl  from 
the  capstan. 

" 1  ever  see,"  continued  the  skipper,  com- 
pletely deaf  and  lost  to  everything  else. 

"Stand  by  to  take  the  line  !"  roared  Mr.  Enlis  to 
the  tow-boat 

125 


The  Wind-jammers 


He  was  a  cool,  collected,  and  extremely  profane 
mate,  and  he  saw  in  an  instant  that  if  the  tug  did 
not  get  the  ship's  head  she  would  swing  around  with 
the  sea-breeze  and  be  standing  up  the  harbor  with 
the  tide. 

As  it  was,  she  kept  paying  off  so  long  that  the 
natural  sailorly  instinct,  alive  in  every  true  deep- 
water  navigator  as  to  a  sudden  change  of  bearings, 
asserted  itself  in  the  skipper  and  brought  him  out 
of  his  dream  with  a  start.  His  vision  faded,  and  in 
its  place  he  saw  his  vessel  swinging  towards  Staten 
Island,  her  topsails  filling  partly  as  they  hung. 

"  What's  the  matter  for'ard  ?"  he  roared.  "  Wake 

up,  you ,"  and  he  let  drive  a  volley  of  oaths 

which  for  descriptive  power  stood  far  and  away 
above  any  of  that  extensive  collection  of  words 
found  in  the  English  dictionary.  Had  Mr.  Garnett 
been  of  a  literary  turn  of  mind  he  might  have  noted 
them  down  for  future  reference,  but  he  apparently 
did  not  appreciate  their  depth  and  power,  for  he 
caught  them  up  carelessly  as  they  came  and  flung 
them  into  the  faces  of  the  crew  with  no  concern 
whatever. 

No  one  was  affected  much  by  this  outburst,  but 
after  the  skipper  had  taken  pains  to  explain  that  his 
mates  and  crew  were  all  sons  of  female  dogs,  and 
that  they  had  inherited  a  hundred  other  bad  things 
besides  low  descent  from  their  ancestors,  he  subsided 
a  little  and  another  voice  was  heard  from  the  main- 
deck. 

"That's  right,  old  man;  don't  mind  me.  Cuss 
126 


The  Backsliders 


them  out,  I  shan't  pay  any  attention.  I'll  get  used 
to  your  tune,  even  if  I  don't  to  your  words,"  cried 
the  pretty  girl  from  the  galley  door,  smiling  up  at 
him. 

Jimmy  Breeze  looked  down  upon  the  main-deck 
from  the  break  of  the  poop.  Then  he  scratched  his 
head,  first  on  one  side  and  then  on  the  other.  Never 
before  in  the  twenty  years  he  had  followed  deep 
water  had  he  ever  heard  of  a  stewardess  addressing 
a  captain  like  this.  Had  she  been  old  and  ugly  a 
belaying-pin  would  have  found  itself  flying  through 
the  air  in  the  direction  of  her  head.  But  this  beau- 
tiful, gentle  young  girl ! 

It  was  too  much  for  the  skipper,  so  he  turned 
slowly  upon  his  heel  and  walked  aft  with  the  air  of 
a  much  disturbed  man,  muttering  incoherently  to 
himself. 

At  three  bells  in  the  morning  the  female  pas- 
sengers had  their  breakfast  served  in  the  saloon. 
The  skipper  happened  to  be  in  his  room  adjoining 
and  could  hear  the  praise  bestowed  upon  his  stew- 
ardess by  Mrs.  O'Hara,  the  Misses  O'Hara,  and  Mrs. 
McCloud. 

"  A  perfect  jewel,"  affirmed  the  latter,  while  "  Car- 
rie" was  forward  getting  her  tea.  "  I  really  don't 
think  we  could  make  a  voyage  without  her." 

"And  so  beautiful  and  good,"  said  the  Misses 
O'Hara. 

"Faith,  tu  be  sure,  she's  a  rale  saint  av  a  gurl," 
added  Mrs.  O'Hara,  just  as  she  appeared  with  the 
tea  things.  "  An',  Carrie,  me  gurl,  d'ye  like  th'  sea 

127 


The  Wind-jammers 


that  ye  follow  it  alone,  so  to  spake  ?"  she  continued, 
addressing  the  stewardess. 

"Yes,  indeed,  ma'am.  But  it's  not  alone  I  am 
entirely,  for  surely  the  captain  is  the  finest  I  ever 
saw,  and  they  told  me  he  was  a  father  to  his  crew. 
He's  a  man  after  my  own  heart." 

"  Humph!"  growled  Jimmy  Breeze  in  the  solitude 
of  his  state-room.  He  thought  his  stewardess  was 
not  only  very  pretty,  but  an  extremely  discerning 
young  woman.  It  was,  however,  this  very  perfection 
in  appearance  and  deportment  that  caused  trouble 
this  morning,  for  when  "Bill,"  the  cabin  boy,  passed 
the  stewardess  in  the  alley- way  he  was  quite  over- 
come by  the  vision  of  loveliness.  He  had  some  of 
the  dinner  things  for  the  officers'  mess,  and  when  he 
turned  suddenly  at  the  door,  a  heavy  lurch  of  the 
Vessel  sent  him  against  the  coamings.  This  had  the 
effect  of  throwing  the  things  scattering  to  leeward 
about  the  feet  of  Mr.  Enlis. 

"You  holy  son  of  Belial !"  roared  the  mate.  And 
he  continued  to  curse  him  loudly  until  Mr.  Garnett 
came  up. 

"  Whang  him  !"  grunted  the  second  officer,  shortly. 
"  Whang  the  lights  out  of  him,  the  burgoo-eating, 
lazy,"  etc. 

Mr.  Enlis  had  seized  the  unfortunate  "  Bill"  by  the 
slack  of  his  coat  and  had  yanked  him  to  the  mast 
to  "  whang"  him,  when  the  form  of  the  stewardess 
appeared  at  the  door  of  the  forward  cabin. 

The  mate  laid  on  one  good  whang,  when  he  was 
interrupted  by  the  remark,  "  Soak  it  to  him  ;  don't 

128 


The  Backsliders 


mind  me,  I'll  get  used  to  hearing  him  pipe."  And 
the  pretty  girl  smiled  pleasantly. 

"Ye  had  better  go  below,  missie,  for  there's 
a-going  to  be  a  little  hee-hawing  for'ards.  Come 
back  again  soon,"  said  Garnett,  with  a  leer. 

"  Not  exactly,  while  the  fun  lasts,"  answered  Miss 
Carrie. 

But,  somehow,  the  mate  could  not  curse  loud 
enough  to  keep  his  temper  up  before  the  young  girl, 
and  he  ended  matters  by  giving  Bill  a  kick  that 
sent  him  to  leeward,  where  he  landed  in  the  mess- 
kit.  Then  the  mate  touched  his  forelock  to  Miss 
Carrie  and  went  forward  muttering  something  about 
there  being  no  discipline  aboard  a  boat  with  wim- 
men  folks  around.  Garnett  balanced  himself  upon 
his  short  bow-legs  to  the  heave  of  the  ship,  which 
was  now  well  off  shore,  and  took  his  cap  in  his  hand 
while  he  mopped  a  deep,  greasy  dent  in  the  top  of 
his  bald  head.  Then  he  took  out  a  vial  of  pepper- 
mint salts  and  sniffed  loudly  at  it,  looking  out  of  the 
clew  of  his  eye  at  the  stewardess.  "  Holy  smoke 
an'  blazes,  but  she's  a  craft  to  sail  with  !  To  think 
of  a  tender-hearted  young  gurl  like  that  wanting  to 
see  a  man  whanged."  And  he  went  forward  like  a 
man  in  a  dream. 

Each  time  during  the  following  days  when  the 
oaths  flew  thick  and  fast  from  poop  or  forecastle, 
Miss  Carrie  appeared  upon  the  scene  and  cheered 
on  the  contestants.  It  was  simply  uncanny  to  see 
the  fresh  young  girl  telling  the  skipper  or  mates  to 
"go  ahead  and  cuss  them  out,"  or  "  don't  mind  me, 

9  129 


The  Wind-jammers 


boys,  I'll  get  used  to  it."  They  could  not  go  on 
while  the  young  girl  stood  by.  Once  Enlis  con- 
tinued to  use  foul  language  before  her,  but  two 
or  three  groans  and  hisses  made  his  face  flush  for 
the  very  shame  of  it.  He  threatened  to  kill  every 
man  who  uttered  a  sound,  and  seized  a  belaying-pin 
to  carry  out  his  design,  but  a  laugh  from  the  galley 
door  drove  him  into  a  frenzy,  and  he  sent  the  pin 
flying  at  the  girl's  head.  He  was  instantly  reported 
to  the  skipper  for  his  brutal  conduct  and  had  the 
satisfaction  of  being  knocked  down  by  that  trucu- 
lent commander,  barely  escaping  forward  with  his 
life. 

"  He's  a  real  captain,"  said  Miss  Carrie  to  the 
O' Haras,  whenever  she  thought  the  skipper  was  in 
his  state-room  and  could  hear.  She  was  a  very 
pretty  girl,  and  what  she  said  was  seldom  lost  en- 
tirely. 

Day  after  day  life  grew  quieter  on  board  the 
Northern  Light.  There  was  no  help  for  it.  And 
while  life  grew  quieter,  so  likewise  did  Jimmy  Breeze, 
the  skipper.  He  was  just  "losing  his  tone,"  as  Mr. 
McCloud  expressed  it.  He  sometimes  burst  forth  at 
odd  moments,  but  the  presence  of  his  stewardess 
usually  ended  the  flare  into  deep  mutterings. 

One  morning  he  came  on  the  poop  and  joined  his 
passengers. 

"There's  no  use  denyin'  it,"  he  said,  "cussin's 
wrong,  and  that  young  gurl  shan't  be  exposed  to  it 
no  more.  She's  a-tryin'  not  to  mind  the  rough 
words  ;  but,  sink  me,  any  one  can  tell  how  they  effects 

130 


The  Backsliders 


her,  young  and  innercent  as  she  is.  Things  is  goin' 
much  better  this  v'yage,  and  blast  me  if  I  allows  any 
d — d  swab  to  shoot  off  his  bazoo  in  my  hearing. 
No,  sir ;  if  there's  any  cussin'  to  be  done,  I'll  do  it. 
Yes,  sir,  I'll  do  it ;  and  I'll  whang  the  lights  out  of 
any  d — d  junk-eating  son  of  a  sea-cook  aboard  here 
I  catches, — an'  I  don't  make  no  exceptions  for  pas- 
sengers." 

Here  he  glared  at  Mr.  O'Hara,  but  that  gentleman 
appeared  absorbed  in  the  weather-leach  of  the  main- 
top-sail. 

"An'  I  don't  make  no  exceptions  for  passengers," 
repeated  the  skipper,  still  glaring  at  the  small  and 
inoffensive  O'Hara,  who  stared  vacantly  aloft.  Then 
the  skipper  went  aft  to  the  wheel  and  noted  the 
ship's  course. 

Within  another  week  after  this  speech  of  Captain 
Breeze's  a  change  had  come  over  the  ship's  company 
almost  equal  to  that  which  had  physically  come  over 
Mr.  Garnett,  whose  long,  flowing  jet-black  mus- 
taches had  now  given  place  to  a  natural  growth  of 
stubbly,  grizzly  beard  and  whiskers.  But  of  course 
the  change  of  ships'  morals  did  not  cause  as  much 
comment  after  the  skipper  had  repeated  his  remarks 
in  regard  to  swearing  to  the  mates.  Mr.  Garnett's 
private  affairs  were  always  of  a  nature  that  caused 
inquisitive  and  evil-disposed  persons  much  interest, 
whereas  the  ship's  company  interested  no  one,  unless 
it  was  the  stewardess. 

As  there  was  war  on  the  West  Coast  of  South 
America  between  Chile  and  P^ru,  the  Northern 


The  Wind-jammers 


Light  carried  her  specie  in  the  captain's  safe,  as 
drafts  and  exchanges  were  difficult  to  negotiate. 
Captain  Breeze  was  a  careful  and  determined  skip- 
per and  he  had  the  confidence  of  the  owners.  He 
was  a  bachelor,  but  he  debauched  in  moderation, — 
that  is,  in  moderation  for  a  deep-water  sailor.  There- 
fore it  was  something  over  ten  thousand  dollars  in 
negotiable  form  that  he  carried  in  the  small  steel 
safe  lashed  to  the  deck  beside  his  capacious  bunk. 

On  the  days  he  opened  his  "slop-chest"  to  sell 
nigger-head  tobacco  which  cost  him  seven  cents  a 
pound  for  ninety,  and  shoes  which  cost  him  thirty 
cents  a  pair  for  two  dollars  and  a  half,  he  took  pride 
in  opening  the  steel  doors  and  displaying  his  wealth 
to  the  stupid  gaze  of  the  men.  The  men  were  not 
forced  to  pay  the  prices  he  asked  for  his  stores,  but 
it  was  a  case  of  monopoly.  They  could  go  without 
tobacco  or  shoes  for  all  he  cared.  When  they  had 
done  so  for  a  short  time  they  usually  accepted  mat- 
ters as  they  were  and  signed  on  for  both  at  any  price 
he  had  the  hardihood  to  demand.  Oil-skins  and 
sou'westers  usually  took  a  whole  month's  pay,  but 
that  was  no  affair  of  his.  If  the  men  wished  to  go 
wet  they  could  do  so.  He  had  no  fear  that  they 
would  attempt  to  crack  his  safe  or  steal  his  stores, 
for  behind  the  safe  and  within  easy  reach  of  his 
strong  hand  stood  his  Winchester  rifle  loaded  full 
of  cartridges. 

Mr.  McCloud  and  Mr.  O'Hara  often  had  the 
pleasure  of  viewing  the  ship's  wealth,  for  there 
were  occasions  when  the  skipper's  temper  was  suf- 

13* 


The  Backsliders 


ficiently  mellow  to  allow  them  in  his  room  that  they 
might  marvel  at  his  power.  He  seldom  failed  to  im- 
press them.  When  the  Northern  Light  had  crossed 
the  line  he  had  impressed  them  into  such  a  state  of 
high  respect  for  himself,  and  had  subdued  their  own 
spirits  so  far,  that  he  actually  began  to  make  their  ac- 
quaintance. He  would  now  hold  conversation  with 
them,  but  always  in  a  tone  of  immeasurable  and 
hopeless  superiority.  During  this  period  the  moral 
tone  of  the  crew  had  likewise  risen  accordingly. 

Garnett  marvelled  greatly  during  his  watch  below, 
and  at  night  when  on  deck  he  could  be  seen  walk- 
ing to  and  fro  in  the  light  of  the  tropic  moon,  mop- 
ping the  dent  in  his  bald  head  and  sniffing  hard  at 
his  little  vial.  The  change  was  dreadful  to  the  old 
sailor's  nerves. 

Mr.  Enlis  went  about  his  duties  silently,  muttering 
strange  sounds  when  things  went  wrong.  The  skip- 
per's promise  to  "  whang  the  lights  out"  of  any  one 
caught  swearing  had  had  its  effect. 

One  warm  morning,  after  breakfast,  the  skipper 
invited  McCloud  and  O'Hara  below  to  try  some 
beer.  This  feeling  of  good  fellowship,  starting  as 
it  did  under  impressive  surroundings,  developed 
into  one  of  real  confidence  within  a  very  short  time. 
Mr.  O'Hara  had  pronounced  the  hot,  flat  beer  the 
best  he  had  ever  tasted,  and  McCloud  had  affirmed 
without  an  oath  that  he  told  nothing  but  the 
truth. 

"Th'  only  wan  av  all  th'  saints  that  cud  come 
within  a  mile  av  it,"  said  O'Hara,  "is  that  paragin 


The  Wind-jammers 


av  goodness  and  all  the  virtues,  me  own  old  woman, 
Molly.  She  kin  make  beer." 

"Ah,  the  blessings  of  a  good  lassie!"  said  Mo 
Cloud,  holding  his  mug  at  arm's  length.  "  Captain, 
ye  have  me  pity,  fra  I  weel  ken  ye  need  it,  being  as 
ye  are  a  puir  lonely  sailor-man.  I  drink  to  ye,  sir, 
with  much  feeling " 

"An'  hope  as  ye  will  not  be  always  be  sich," 
interrupted  O'Hara. 

Jimmy  Breeze  sat  silent  and  sullen  upon  his  safe, 
glaring  at  his  passengers  over  the  rim  of  his  mug 
each  time  he  raised  it  to  his  lips.  At  the  end  of 
the  sixth  measure  he  dashed  the  mug  upon  the  deck 
and  swore  loudly  for  nearly  a  minute,  and  his  guests 
were  wondering  what  had  happened. 

"  I'll  not  be  any  d — d  sich  any  longer !"  he 
roared.  "  I've  stood  it  long  enough,  s'help  me." 

O'Hara  put  down  his  mug  and  edged  towards  the 
cabin  door,  and  McCloud  was  in  the  act  of  following 
his  example  when  Breeze  sprang  forward  and  locked 
it,  putting  the  key  in  his  pocket 

"  Sit  down,  you  swabs,  and  give  me  your  advice. 
You  can't  leave  here  till  you  do  ;  so  take  your  time 
and  lay  me  a  straight  course." 

"What's — what's  the  matter?"  gasped  O'Hara. 

The  skipper  seated  himself  on  top  of  his  safe. 

"  It's  like  this,"  he  said  "  Here  I'm  bound  for 
the  West  Coast  in  cargo  and  passengers,  likely  to  be 
at  sea  four  months  or  more,  and  here  I  am  bound 
to  get  marred  even  if  I  have  to  run  the  bleeding 
hooker  clear  back  to  Rio  to  have  it  done." 


The  Backsliders 


"  Whew  !"  said  McCloud. 

"Whew!"  said  O'Hara. 

"What  I  wants  is  advice.  Shall  I  lay  a  course 
back  to  the  Brazils  and  cross  the  hawse  of  some 
shaved-headed  priest,  or  put  into  the  river  Plate  and 
have  her  own  kind  of  sky-pilot  do  the  job?  She 
lays  she  won't  have  no  shave-head  splice  her,  and 
it's  a  good  three  weeks'  run  to  the  river,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  danger  of  the  Pompero  this  time  o' 
year.  Ain't  there  any  way  to  make  her  'bout  ship 
an'  head  her  on  the  right  tack,  or  have  I  got  to  be 
slanting  about  this  d — d  ocean  until  I  get  to  be 
an  old  man  ?" 

"What  wud  ye  loike  us  to  do?"  asked  O'Hara. 

"  Do  !"  roared  Breeze.  "  If  I  knew,  do  you  sup- 
pose I'd  ask  you?  I'd  make  you  do  it  so  infernal 
quick  you " 

"  Or  whang  yer  lights  out,  ye  insolent  man,"  said 
McCloud,  turning  upon  him. 

"Well,  well,  I'm  no  priest,"  said  the  repentant 
O'Hara. 

"  No  more  ye  ken,  Mickey,  me  boy ;  na  is  it  the 
likes  o'  you  as  will  be  o'  service  in  this  case.  Now, 
ye  know,  Mickey,  I  knows  law,  and  I  always  have 
told  ye  the  skipper  of  a  vessel  is  a  law  to  himself. 
Ain't  that  be  the  truth,  sir?"  he  asked,  turning  to 
the  captain. 

Captain  Breeze  nodded. 

"  That  being  the  case,  I  know  a  skipper  can  marry 
people,  perform  religious  worship,  and  do  all  manner 
o'  things  aboard  ships  off  soundings,  as  the  saying  is." 


The  Wind-jammers 


The  skipper  nodded  encouragingly  from  the 
safe. 

"That  being  the  case,"  says  I,  "there's  no  reason 
or  being  or  state  as  can  keep  him  fra  marrying  this 
minute  if — if  he  wants  to. " 

"I  know  that  all  right,"  said  Breeze  ;  "but  who's 
to  marry  me?" 

"I  don't  happen  to  be  able  to  guess  the  leddie 's 
name,"  said  McCloud. 

"D — n  the  lady  !  Who's  to  marry  me?  That's 
what  I  want  to  know,"  roared  the  skipper. 

"Why,  the  leddie  will  marry  you,  and  you  will 
marry  the  leddie  to  yourself,  I  presume.  We  are 
both  married,  O'Hara  and  me." 

The  skipper  sat  glaring  at  his  passengers,  while  he 
repeatedly  damned  the  lady,  the  priests,  the  passes 
gers,  and  all  else  connected  with  the  affair. 

"You  infernal  cross-checkered  sea-lawyer,  how 
can  I  marry  myself?  How  can  I  marry  myself  and 
the  girl  too  ?  Answer  me  that,  sir,"  and  he  glared 
at  McCloud. 

"Sure,  'tis  aisy  enough,  a  little  bit  av  a  thing 
loike  that,  sur,"  said  O'Hara.  "  Mac  is  right,  an'  he 
has  the  lure  strong  an'  fast  in  his  books  foreninst  th* 
state-room." 

"I'll  get  the  law  and  read  it  to  ye  so  ye  may  ken 
it,  ye  hard-headed  sailor-man,"  said  McCloud,  some- 
what ruffled,  and  he  started  for  the  door.  The  skip- 
per unlocked  it  and  let  him  out,  holding  O'Hara  as 
hostage  against  his  return. 

In  a  few  minutes  McCloud  came  back  with  several 


The  Backsliders 


leather-covered  books,  and,  seating  himself,  opened 
one  of  them  and  began  his  search  for  authority. 

"  Here  it  is,"  he  said,  at  length,  while  the  skipper 
sat  and  looked  curiously  at  him.  "  Here's  law  for 
ye,  an'  good  law  at  that  Just  as  binding  as  any 
law  ever  writ." 

O'Hara  nodded  at  the  skipper  and  smiled  an  "I 
told  you  so." 

Jimmy  Breeze  came  over  to  his  passenger  and 
looked  over  his  shoulder  sheepishly.  McCloud  read, 
"And  therefore  be  it  enacted,  that  all  such  mas- 
ters of  vessels  when  upon  the  high  seas  on  voyages 
lasting  one  month  or  more  shall  have  authority  to 
perform  such  services  upon  such  members  of  the 
ship's  company  as  they  may  see  fit ;  provided  that 
notice  of  the  consent  of  the  contracting  parties  has 
been  previously  given,  etc." 

"Wai,  I  swow  !"  said  Breeze,  after  a  short  pause. 

"Get  married  first,"  suggested  O'Hara,  draining 
one  of  the  mugs. 

"Sink  me  if  I  don't  pull  off  the  affair  before 
eight  bells,  and  if  I  find  your  infernal  book  is  wrong, 
blast  me  if  I  don't  ram  the  insides  of  its  law  down 
your  throat  and  whang  your  hide  off  with  the  leather 
cover,"  said  the  skipper,  hopefully. 

"'Tis  good,  rale  good  lure,"  muttered  O'Hara, 
looking  for  more  beer.  "  Who's  th'  leddy  ?" 

Although  no  one  had  mentioned  the  name  of  the 
fair  stewardess  for  fear  of  precipitating  an  outburst 
on  the  part  of  the  skipper,  no  doubt  was  felt  by  the 
passengers  that  she  was  the  object  of  the  skipper's 

133 


The  Wind-jammers 


affections.  His  contempt  for  the  O' Haras  in  gen- 
eral precluded  the  possibility  of  a  match  with  either 
of  the  young  ladies  of  that  prosperous  family.  Be- 
sides, they  both  had  pug-noses  and  were  exceedingly 
well  freckled.  The  beauty  of  Miss  Carrie  had  long 
been  observed  to  have  had  its  effect  upon  Captain 
Breeze ;  so  his  answer  to  O'Hara's  apparently 
hopeful  question  caused  the  latter  little  real  disap- 
pointment, although  he  may  have  had  secret  ambi- 
tions. 

"  Seems  to  me  ye  might  give  the  lassie  some  no- 
tion of  your  hurry,  especially  if  it's  going  to  happen 
so  soon.  The  puir  child  na  kens  your  purpose,  no 
doubt,"  said  McCloud. 

"Faith,  I  think  ye  right,  Mac.  I  gave  th'  owld 
gal  nigh  six  months  tu  git  ready  in " 

"Six  thunder  !"  growled  Breeze.  "  I  mean  to  get 
married  afore  eight  bells,  at  high  noon,  according  to 
good  English  law,  and  if  you  fellows  want  to  help 
you  can  get  your  wives  and  darters  to  bear  a  hand. " 
They  went  into  the  saloon,  where  they  found  Carrie 
fixing  the  table  for  dinner. 

The  skipper  hitched  up  his  trousers  impressively 
while  his  passengers  stood  at  either  hand. 

"  Carrie,"  said  he,  solemnly,  "  we'll  stand  by  to 
tack  ship  at  seven  bells, — an' — an' — and  after  that 
we'll  make  the  rest  of  the  voyage  in  company.  Hey  ? 
How  does  that  strike  you,  my  girl  ?" 

"  Mercy  !  What  a  man  you  are,  Captain  Breeze  !" 
said  Carrie,  blushing  crimson.  "Sure  it's  sort  of 
sudden  like." 

138 


The  Backsliders 


"You'll  have  half  an  hour  to  get  ready  in,"  said 
the  skipper. 

"  Plenty  of  time,"  chimed  in  McCloud. 

"  An'  an  aisy  toime  iver  afterwards  as  th'  capt'in's 
leddy,"  said  O'Hara,  with  dignity. 

"  But  who's  to  marry  us  ?"  asked  the  maiden, 
shyly,  glancing  at  the  skipper. 

"I'm  to  marry  you,"  said  Jimmy  Breeze.  "It's 
law  and  it's  all  right.  I'm  master  of  this  here  hooker, 
and  what  I  says  goes  aboard,  or  ashore  either,  for 
that  matter.  It's  put  down  in  that  yaller  book,  an* 
it's  law." 

"  Land  sakes  !  I  never  could,  Captain  Breeze, — 
really,  now,  not  before  these  people, — I  never  could 
in  the  world."  And  Carrie  blushed  furiously. 

"  You  passed  your  word  last  night,  so  I  holds  you 
in  honor  bound,"  said  Breeze,  with  great  fervor. 
"You  have  half  an  hour,  so  I  leaves  you."  And  he 
drew  himself  up  and  strode  to  the  companion,  and 
so  up  on  the  main-deck  out  of  sight. 

McCloud  and  O'Hara,  seeing  danger  ahead,  strove 
with  all  the  power  of  their  persuasive  tongues  to  get 
the  fair  girl  to  listen  to  reason,  or  rather  law.  She 
was  stubborn  on  the  point,  however,  and  the  female 
portion  of  the  O'Hara  faction,  together  with  Mrs. 
McCloud,  was  brought  to  bear.  These  ladies,  after 
expressing  their  modest  astonishment  at  the  skipper's 
unseemly  haste,  immediately,  however,  vied  with  each 
other  to  argue  in  his  behalf  They  were  so  per- 
suasive in  their  appeals,  and  so  adroit  in  painting 
the  picture  of  Miss  Carrie's  future  happiness,  that  in 

i39 


The  Wind-jammers 


less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  that  refractory  young 
lady  gave  way  in  a  flood  of  tears.  After  this  she 
hastily  prepared  herself  for  the  ordeal  by  reading 
over  the  marriage  service  with  Miss  O'Hara,  and 
things  looked  propitious  for  the  skipper. 

At  seven  bells  that  truculent  commander  promptly 
put  in  an  appearance,  dressed  in  a  tight-fitting  coat 
and  cap  with  gold  braid.  He  was  followed  below  by 
Mr.  Enlis,  who  looked  uncertain  and  sour.  After  a 
short  preliminary  speech  the  skipper  called  the 
blushing  bride  to  his  side  as  he  stood  at  the  head  of 
the  cabin  table.  The  book  lay  open  before  him, 
and  without  further  ado  he  plunged  boldly  into  the 
marriage  service,  answering  for  himself  in  the  most 
matter-of-fact  manner  possible.  He  placed  a  small 
gold  ring  upon  the  middle  finger  of  his  bride's  right 
hand,  which  she  dexterously  removed  and  transferred 
to  her  left,  and  after  the  ceremony  was  over  he  glared 
around  at  the  assembled  company  as  if  inviting  criti- 
cism. 

No  one  had  the  hardihood  to  venture  upon  any. 
Then  the  paper  which  was  to  do  duty  as  certificate 
was  drawn  up  by  the  clerky  McCloud  and  was  duly 
signed  by  all  present.  It  was  afterwards  transferred 
to  the  skipper's  safe.  Whiskey  and  water  was  pro- 
duced for  the  men  and  ale  for  the  ladies,  and  before 
long  even  the  sour  mate  was  heard  holding  forth  in 
full  career  by  the  envious  Mr.  Garnett,  who  was 
forced  to  stand  watch  while  his  superiors  enjoyed 
themselves.  It  was  a  memorable  affair  for  some  and 
immemorable  for  others,  for  the  next  day  O'Hara 

140 


The  Backsliders 


could  remember  nothing,  and  Mr.  Enlis  remembered 
that  he  had  gotten  exceedingly  drunk.  Much  he 
related  to  Garnett  during  the  dog-watch,  and  that 
worthy  rubbed  the  top  of  his  bald  head  and  sniffed 
furiously  at  his  vial,  swearing  softly  that  the  "  old 
man"  had  made  a  fool  of  himself,  and  that  he  was 
accordingly  glad  of  it. 

The  cruise  continued  as  a  cruise  should  when  a 
bride  is  aboard  ship,  and  at  the  end  of  a  fortnight 
the  Northern  Light  was  in  the  latitude  of  the  river 
Plate.  There  had  been  never  an  oath  uttered  since 
the  skipper's  marriage,  and  the  mates  had  begun  to 
chafe  under  the  restraint.  The  bride  was  on  deck 
nearly  all  the  time,  and  was  certain  to  make  remarks 
and  cheer  on  any  attempt  at  a  fracas. 

One  afternoon  the  carpenter  sounded  the  well  and 
was  astonished  to  find  a  foot  of  water  in  the  hold. 
The  weather  had  been  fine  and  the  vessel  steady,  so 
he  was  at  a  loss  to  account  for  this  phenomenon.  He 
sounded  again  an  hour  later  and  found  the  water  had 
gained  six  inches.  Then  he  lost  no  time  in  report- 
ing the  condition  of  the  ship  to  the  captain. 

With  water  gaining  six  inches  an  hour,  the  crew 
manned  the  pumps  with  set  faces,  appalled  at  the 
sudden  danger  in  mid-ocean.  Suddenly,  however, 
the  pumps  "  sucked."  An  investigation  showed  the 
ship  was  rapidly  becoming  dry. 

The  water-tanks  were  examined  and  found  to  be 
empty,  but  no  leaks  in  them  could  be  discovered. 

To  be  at  sea  without  water  to  drink  is  most 
dreaded  by  deep-water  sailors,  so  Jimmy  Breeze 

141 


The  Wind-jammers 


started  his  condenser  and  headed  his  ship  for  Bue- 
nos Ayres,  cursing  the  fates  for  the  foul  luck  that 
would  ruin  his  anticipated  quick  passage. 

His  wife  consoled  him  as  best  she  could  and 
lamented  her  husband's  luck  to  the  passengers. 
Whereat  she  received  the  sympathy  of  the  O'  Haras 
and  Mrs.  McCloud,  and  was  looked  upon  as  a  very 
unfortunate  woman. 

"  Ah,  pore  thing  !  to  think  av  it  happening  on  her 
honeymoon  at  that,"  cried  Mrs.  O'Hara. 

"  The  sweet  child,  trying  all  she  can  to  help  her 
husband  to  forget  his  lost  chances  for  extra  freight 
money.  To  think  of  it,  and  just  married  at  that," 
said  Mrs.  McCloud. 

"Pore  young  sowl,"  said  Kate  O'Hara. 

"'Tis  a  good  wife  that  sticks  to  her  husband  in 
disthress,"  said  O'Hara. 

"  Ye  ken  it's  a  jewel  he  has  to  be  na  thinking  of 
money  losses,"  said  McCloud. 

Finally  the  ship  made  port  and  anchored  off  the 
city  to  take  in  water  and  continue  her  voyage  at  the 
earliest  opportunity. 

Mrs.  O'Hara  and  Mrs.  McCloud  insisted  on  being 
allowed  ashore  to  see  the  sights.  Captain  Breeze 
would  hear  of  no  such  thing,  but  finally,  when  his 
bride  added  her  voice  to  the  occasion,  he  relented, 
and  the  ladies  went  ashore  together. 

Mrs.  Breeze  pointed  out  many  places  of  interest, 
as  she  admitted  having  been  there  before,  and  at 
one  of  the  principal  hotels  she  left  the  party.  She 
told  them  not  to  wait  for  her,  as  she  would  stop  and 

142 


The  Backsliders 


see  a  friend,  but  to  go  down  to  the  landing,  where 
the  boat  might  wait  for  her  after  she  was  through 
her  call. 

The  day  passed  gayly,  but  when  the  party  as- 
sembled at  the  landing,  Mrs.  Breeze  was  not  there. 
They  never  saw  her  again. 

The  next  day  Captain  Breeze  called  Mr.  Enlis  aft 
and  took  him  below.  When  he  had  him  in  the 
privacy  of  his  state-room  he  pointed  to  his  little 
safe,  and  asked  him  to  look  through  it 

This  operation  took  but  a  moment,  for  it  was 
almost  entirely  empty,  and  when  he  was  through  he 
looked  at  the  skipper. 

"What  would  you  do?"  asked  Jimmy  Breeze, 
huskily. 

"  Me  ?"  asked  the  mate,  apparently  amazed  at  the 
question. 

"  Yes,  you." 

"About  what?"  asked  Enlis,  trying  to  look  utterly 
lost. 

"About  that  gal  and  the  money,  blast  you  !" 

"  Oh  !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Enlis,  as  if  a  sudden  light 
had  flooded  the  dark  recesses  of  his  brain.  He 
remained  silent 

"Well,  what?"  asked  the  skipper,  in  real  anger. 

"I  dunno,"  said  Mr.  Enlis,  after  a  long  pause. 
"Tears  to  me  I  wouldn't  let  on  nothing  about  it 
Mum's  the  word,  says  I." 

"  But  the  money,  you  swab?"  growled  the  skipper. 

"To  be  sure,"  said  Enlis.      "The  money." 

"Well?" 


The  Wind-jammers 


"Well,  you  might  ask  the  police  about  the  money 
on  the  quiet  like,"  ventured  the  mate. 

"Suppose  you  and  Garnett  go  ashore  and  see 
about  it  without  making  any  fuss.  Garnett  is  a 
good  one  for  such  matters.  It  would  hardly  do  for 
me,  seeing  as  how  I  stand  in  the  matter  of  hus- 
band." 

"  Egg-zactly ;  we'll  do  it  right  away ;"  and  the 
mate  hastened  forward  to  take  advantage  of  the 
opportunity. 

Garnett  and  Enlis  went  ashore  with  what  money 
they  could  get,  and  they  entered  a  description  of 
the  missing  stewardess  with  the  police.  "An  old 
hag  with  side  whiskers,  having  a  wart  under  her 
left  eye  and  all  her  teeth  gone,"  said  Garnett,  as 
he  finished.  "  An'  I  hopes  you'll  soon  find  her," 
he  added,  with  a  leer  at  the  official.  "  Ye'll  know 
her  by  the  way  she  swears." 

Several  hours  afterwards  two  exceedingly  happy 
and  drunken  sailor-men  staggered  down  the  street 
towards  the  landing.  A  beggar  accosted  them,  but 
after  a  search  for  coin,  they  protested  they  were 
cleaned  out 

"Don't  make  no  difference.  Give  me  clothes," 
whined  the  mendicant. 

"I'd  give  ye  anything,  me  boy,  for  a  weight  is  off 
my  mind.  Was  ye  ever  married  ?"  cried  Garnett 

"Give  the  pore  fellow  clothes,  Garnett,  you 
swine  !"  roared  Enlis. 

Garnett  staggered  against  a  house  and  undid  his 
belt  Then  with  much  trouble  he  drew  off  his 

144 


The  Backsliders 


trousers  and  stood  with  his  white  legs  glistening  in 
the  moonlight 

"  Here,  pore  fellow.  You  are  a  long-shore  swab, 
but  I  knows  by  your  look  ye  are  married.  Take 
them,  blast  ye  !"  And  he  flung  his  trousers  from 
him.  "This  bean-swillin'  mate  is  too  mean  to  give 
ye  anything." 

"  Not  I  !"  bawled  Enlis,  casting  off  his  belt 
"  Here,  you  swivel-eyed  land-crab  ;"  and  he  drew 
off  his  trousers  likewise  and  handed  them  to  the 
beggar. 

"Thanky,"  hissed  the  creature,  and  ran  away. 

The  men  in  the  boat  looked  up  the  street  towards 
where  they  heard  singing,  and  they  beheld  two  very 
drunken  men  in  flowing  jumpers  staggering  trouser- 
less  along,  while  their  voices  roared  upon  the  quiet 
night,— 

"  A  Bully  sailed  from  Bristol  town, 
Singing  yo,  ho,  ho,  oh,  blow  a  man  down ; 
A  Bully  sailed,  aud  made  a  tack, 
Hooray  for  the  Yankee  Jack, 
Waiting  with  his  yard  aback, 
Soo-aye  !  Hooray  !  Oh,  knock  a  man  down." 


CAPTAIN  CRAVEN'S 
COURAGE 

EVERY  man  develops  during  the  period  of  his 
growth  a  certain  amount  of  nerve-power. 
This  energy  or  life  in  his  system  will  usually 
last  him,  with  ordinary  care,  twoscore  or  more  years 
before  it  fails.  Sometimes  it  is  used  prodigally, 
and  the  man  suffers  the  consequence  by  becoming 
a  debtor  to  nature.  It  is  this  that  makes  the  ending 
of  many  overbold  men  out  of  keeping  with  their 
lives.  Some  religious  enthusiasts  would  have  it  that 
they  are  repentant  towards  the  end  of  their  careers, 
— that  is,  if  they  have  not  led  conventional  lives, — 
and  that  accounts  for  their  general  break-down  from 
the  high  courage  shown  during  their  prime.  Among 
sailors,  soldiers,  hunters,  and  others  who  live  hard 
lives  of  exposure,  the  strain  is  sometimes  peculiarly 
apparent. 

It  is  often  the  case  that  the  man  of  hard  life  dies 
before  his  life-flame  burns  low,  and  then  he  is  some- 
times classed  as  a  hero.  For  instance,  the  captain 
of  the  Penguin,  who  ran  his  ship  ashore  on  the 
North  Head  of  San  Francisco  Bay,  was  the  most 
notorious  desperado  in  the  whole  Cape  Horn  fleet 
Many  men  who  sailed  with  him  never  saw  the  land 
again.  Their  names  appeared  upon  his  log  as 
"missing,"  " lost  overboard  in  heavy  weather,"  etc. 
Investigation  of  such  matters  resulted  in  nothing  but 

14* 


Captain  Craven's  Courage 


expense  to  the  courts  and  the  development  of  the 
ruffian's  sinister  character  and  reputation.  Yet  when 
he  ran  the  Penguin  ashore  with  the  terrible  south- 
east sea  rolling  behind  her,  he  maintained  his  rigid 
discipline  to  the  last  and  saved  his  passengers  and 
part  of  his  crew.  He  died  as  a  brave  man  should, 
never  flinching  from  his  post  until  his  life  was 
crushed  out 

There  were  some  who  said  he  dared  not  come 
ashore,  as  he  had  overrun  his  distance  through  care- 
lessness, and  that  without  the  backing  of  his  ship's 
owners  he  would  have  been  stranded  in  a  bad  way 
upon  the  beach.  But  the  majority  were  willing  to 
forget  his  record  in  his  gallant  end,  and  he  will  be 
known  in  the  future  by  the  men  who  follow  deep- 
water  as  a  hero. 

Craven,  the  pirate,  was  a  much  bolder  and  des- 
perate man,  yet  his  end  was  different  He  hailed 
from  the  same  port  as  the  skipper  of  the  Penguin, 
and  sailed  with  the  Cape  Horn  fleet  in  its  early 
days. 

He  retired  from  the  sea  at  the  age  of  thirty- 
five  and  settled  on  the  southern  coast  of  California, 
taking  to  farming  with  that  peculiar  zeal  shown  by 
all  deep-water  sailors.  He  fell  desperately  in  love, 
married,  and  the  following  year  shot  and  killed  a 
man  who  was  less  pious  than  polite  in  his  behavior 
towards  Craven's  wife. 

After  this  affair  he  fled.  Nothing  was  heard  of  him 
again  for  several  years,  but  as  he  was  an  expert  nav- 
igator it  was  supposed  he  took  to  the  sea  for  safety, 

H7 


The  Wind-jammers 


One  day  an  American  trader  was  standing  in  the 
Hoogla  River,  China,  when  a  junk  appeared  head- 
ing for  her  under  all  sail.  Behind  the  junk,  about  a 
mile  to  windward,  came  a  trading  schooner.  The 
Chinese  on  the  junk  made  desperate  efforts  to  over- 
take the  American  ship.  When  they  came  within 
hailing  distance  they  begged  to  be  allowed  along- 
side. 

The  skipper  of  the  Yankee  warned  them  off  with 
his  guns,  and  ten  minutes  later  the  schooner  had  laid 
the  junk  aboard.  There  was  some  sharp  firing  for  a 
few  minutes,  and  then  the  Americans  saw  the  men 
from  the  schooner  swarm  over  the  junk's  deck. 
After  that  Chinamen  were  dropped  overboard  in 
twos  and  threes,  and  before  they  had  drawn  out  of 
sight  ahead  the  schooner  was  standing  away  again, 
leaving  the  junk  a  burning  wreck.  When  the  ship 
made  harbor  they  learned  that  Craven  had  appeared 
on  the  coast  He  had  been  there  the  preceding 
year  and  had  been  recognized.  Altogether  it  was 
said  he  had  taken  over  five  hundred  junks  and  put 
their  crews  overboard.  The  captain  of  the  Ameri- 
can ship  reported  the  incident  he  had  just  witnessed 
to  the  English  gunboat  Sovereign,  but  no  action  was 
taken  in  the  matter.  There  was  no  treaty  between 
the  United  States  and  China,  and,  as  Craven  was  an 
American,  it  was  a  case  for  the  Chinese  to  settle. 

Craven  had  been  on  the  coast  several  times.  He 
had  a  rendezvous  to  the  eastward  somewhere  among 
the  numerous  coral  reefs,  and  from  this  den  he  would 
sally  forth  in  his  schooner,  armed  with  six  twelve- 

148 


Captain  Craven's  Courage 


pounders,  and  swoop  down  upon  some  unsuspecting 
Chinese  town.  His  boldness  was  remarkable. 

Once  he  held  a  whole  village  in  check  single- 
handed  while  his  men  carried  a  boat-load  of  young 
maidens  aboard  the  schooner,  and  then  returned  for 
the  rest  of  their  booty  left  upon  the  sand.  It  was 
said  that  had  the  emperor  himself  been  within  a 
day's  journey  of  the  coast,  Craven  would  have  had 
him  aboard  his  vessel  to  gratify  his  sinister  humor. 

His  cruelty  was  phenomenal.  A  favorite  amuse- 
ment of  his  being  to  tie  two  Chinamen  together  by 
their  pigtails  and  sling  them  across  a  spring-stay. 
Then  he  would  offer  freedom  to  the  one  who  would 
demolish  the  other  the  quicker.  It  was  seldom  that 
he  failed  to  produce  a  horrible  spectacle. 

On  one  occasion  when  he  captured  a  prominent 
mandarin  he  asked  an  enormous  ransom.  Not  get- 
ting it  within  the  time  specified,  he  had  the  unfortu- 
nate man  skinned  and  stuffed.  Then  he  was  carried 
ashore  and  left  standing  for  his  friends  to  greet. 

Craven's  crew  numbered  less  than  twenty-five  men, 
and  they  were  all  white,  except  two  or  three  who 
acted  as  servants  to  the  rest,  taking  a  hand  in  the 
fracases  only  when  ordered  to. 

It  might  be  supposed  that  the  pirate  wasted  much 
time  and  energy  for  little  gain  taking  junks.  He 
dared  not  touch  a  white  trader,  and  the  junks  were 
the  easiest  to  handle.  There  was  little  left  for  him 
to  prey  upon,  so  he  went  along  the  Chinese  coast 
like  a  ravenous  shark,  leaving  a  smoking  wake  be- 
hind, strewn  with  the  blackened  timbers  of  burned 

149 


The  Wind-jammers 


junks  and  dotted  with  the  corpses  of  murdered  men. 
Everything  Chinese  was  game  for  his  crew,  and 
what  he  lost  in  quality  of  plunder  he  made  up  in 
quantity. 

While  the  American  ship  lay  in  the  Hoogla  an 
accident  occurred  aboard  which  delayed  her  de- 
parture. During  the  time  spent  in  making  some  of 
the  necessary  repairs  Craven  appeared  at  the  mouth 
of  the  river,  and  was  so  bold  that  the  English  gun- 
boat was  at  last  prevailed  upon  to  drive  him  away. 
The  Sovereign  met  him  some  twenty  miles  off 
shore  in  the  act  of  scuttling  a  captured  junk.  This 
was  too  much  for  the  Englishman,  and  he  fired  a 
shot  to  drive  him  off.  To  his  surprise  Craven  re- 
turned the  fire.  That  settled  the  matter.  The 
heavy  Blakely  rifle  on  the  gunboat's  forecastle  was 
trained  upon  the  schooner,  and  it  sent  a  shell  that 
cut  both  masts  out  of  her  and  left  her  helpless. 
Craven  returned  the  fire  with  vigor,  landing  several 
telling  shots.  A  heavy  shell  from  the  rifle  was  then 
fired  at  half  a  mile  range,  and  struck  the  schooner 
in  the  stern  above  the  water-line.  It  ranged  for- 
ward, raking  her  whole  length,  and  left  her  a  burning 
wreck.  She  began  settling  rapidly  by  the  head, 
and  the  gunboat,  firing  a  parting  broadside,  which 
destroyed  the  schooner's  two  boats,  drew  slowly 
away.  The  Englishman  waited  within  sight  until 
the  schooner  disappeared  beneath  the  sea,  and  then, 
thinking  it  would  be  more  merciful  to  let  the  crew 
remain  in  the  water  than  to  bring  them  ashore, 
steamed  away  for  the  river. 

ISO 


Captain  Craven's  Courage 


A  few  weeks  after  this  a  Spanish  brig  came  in. 
She  was  a  trader  bound  south,  and  the  mate  of  the 
American  ship  made  arrangements  to  take  passage 
on  her  as  far  as  Singapore  to  get  some  necessary 
supplies  for  his  vessel. 

The  first  person  he  met  on  rowing  over  to  the 
brig  to  secure  a  passage  was  a  small,  peculiarly 
yellow  man  with  a  Spanish  cast  of  features,  who 
met  him  at  the  gangway  and  asked  him  his  business 
before  allowing  him  to  come  aboard.  On  telling  his 
desire  to  secure  a  passage  to  the  southward,  he  was 
peremptorily  refused  ;  but  when  he  explained  his 
business  was  urgent  and  that  he  had  many  necessary 
supplies  to  secure,  the  man  at  the  gangway  recon- 
sidered the  matter,  and  bade  him  wait  alongside 
until  he  could  consult  his  skipper,  who  was  below 
suffering  from  an  attack  of  gout  in  his  leg. 

In  a  little  while  he  reappeared  at  the  brig's  side 
and  announced  gruffly  that  he  might  bring  his 
things  aboard  the  following  morning,  as  that  was 
the  time  set  for  the  brig's  sailing. 

The  next  day  the  mate,  Mr.  Camp,  came  aboard 
the  brig,  and  soon  afterwards  she  was  standing  out 
to  sea.  There  were  two  passengers  besides  himself 
aboard,  Manila  traders,  who  had  come  over  from  the 
Philippines  and  who  wished  to  get  to  the  southward. 

When  the  brig  had  made  an  offing,  Camp  was 
surprised  at  the  appearance  of  a  most  peculiar  look- 
ing colored  man,  who  limped  up  the  companion-way 
to  the  poop.  His  skin  was  an  orange-yellow,  and 
appeared  dry  and  dark  in  spots.  His  right  leg  was 


The  Wind-jammers 


swathed  in  bloody  rags,  and  he  limped  as  if  in  some 
pain.  He  had  an  eye  that  glinted  strangely  as  the 
mate  came  within  its  range  of  vision,  and  his  face 
wore  the  determined  look  of  a  fighter  who  is  making 
a  desperate  stand  against  heavy  odds.  In  a  quiet 
voice  he  addressed  the  man  who  had  made  the 
arrangement  with  the  mate,  Mr.  Camp. 

"Collins,"  said  he,  "get  me  the  glass.  I  believe 
I  see  a  couple  of  birds  making  in  along  the  beach 
for  the  harbor."  This  he  said  in  good  English, 
with  a  slight  Yankee  accent,  and  Camp  turned  in 
astonishment  to  look  at  him  more  closely. 

The  man  Collins,  who  was  the  mate  of  the  brig, 
handed  him  the  glass,  and  after  a  moment  Craven 
laid  it  down  with  an  oath. 

"The  two  fellows  we  missed  last  week.  They'll 
loose  off  at  having  seen  us,  and  that  gunboat  will 
be  hard  in  our  wake  before  night.  You  might  send 
a  few  men  aft  to  get  to  work  on  our  passengers. 
They  are  poor  whelps." 

Camp  went  towards  him. 

"  I  don't  understand  what  you  mean  by  that  last 
remark,"  said  he.  "I  am  an  American  and  wish  a 
certain  amount  of  civility  aboard  here." 

The  skipper  smiled  grimly  at  him  and  sat  upon 
the  poop-rail. 

"You'll  get  the  best  the  coast  affords,  my  boy," 
said  he.  "You'll  be  a  gentleman  of  leisure  after 
you  quit  this  hooker.  This  is  the  brig  Cristobal, 
Captain  Craven  ;  and  now  you  can  make  up  your 
mind  whether  you  will  be  a  member  of  the  ship's 

152 


Captain  Craven's  Courage 


company  or  try  and  float  a  twelve-pound  shot.  It's 
piracy,  says  you?  Well,  it's  swim,  then,  says  we, 
and  good  luck  to  you,"  and  he  chuckled  hoarsely, 
while  several  men  came  aft  and  stood  by  the  mate 
for  further  orders. 

Camp  saw  that  it  was  death  in  a  hideous  form  to 
disobey.  Both  he  and  the  two  Manila  men  were 
led  below,  where  they  swore  allegiance  to  Craven 
and  joined  his  crew.  In  a  crisis  of  this  nature  a 
man  even  of  strong  mould  is  apt  to  think  twice 
before  accepting  the  inevitable.  Time  is  valuable 
when  one  has  but  a  few  moments  to  live,  and  to 
gain  it  these  three  innocent  men  were  glad  to  accept 
any  terms.  They  were  sent  forward  with  the  men 
and  joined  the  crew,  which  now  numbered  fourteen 
hands.  Here  they  learned  how  Craven  and  four 
men  had  clung  to  some  of  the  wreck  of  his  schooner 
for  two  days.  Then  the  brig  Cristobal  picked  them 
up  in  an  exhausted  state.  Two  days  later  Craven 
and  his  fellows  quietly  dropped  the  skipper  over- 
board and  announced  to  the  crew  their  intention  of 
taking  charge  of  the  brig.  All  who  wished  to  could 
join.  There  were  six  unarmed  men  against  five 
desperadoes  armed  to  the  teeth,  and  in  a  short  time 
matters  were  settled  satisfactorily.  Craven  was  in 
command  of  a  vessel  and  crew  bound  for  China  from 
the  Philippines,  and  it  was  his  humor  to  keep  her  on 
her  course  and  have  a  look  at  things  in  the  harbor. 
This  he  did  to  his  satisfaction,  and  no  opportunity 
offering  for  him  to  revenge  himself  upon  the  gun- 
boat there,  he  took  on  some  supplies  and  put  to 


The  Wind-jammers 


sea.  When  he  met  Camp  at  the  break  of  the  poop 
after  the  latter  had  joined,  he  became  more  com- 
municative than  usual. 

"  This  color  we  have  will  soon  wear  off,  my  boy," 
said  he.  "  Collins  there  thought  he  knew  something 
about  medicine,  and  he  broke  open  the  medicine 
chest  to  get  this  iodine  to  paint  us  with.  He's  a 
clown.  The  infernal  stuff  burned  half  the  skin  off, 
and  that  accounts  for  his  looks.  Where's  the  skip- 
per of  this  hooker,  says  you  ?  Well,  that  depends 
somewhat  on  his  morals.  I  don't  call  to  mind  any 
island  trader  as  will  go  to  the  heaven  some  old  women 
pray  for.  A  trader's  life  is  always  a  hard  one,  so  I 
don't  think  we  did  any  harm  in  helping  the  fellow 
to  something  different,  although  he  did  struggle 
mighty  hard  to  stay.  Some  religious  people  would 
call  it  bad  to  put  yellow-skinned  heathen  overboard, 
but  we  don't  look  at  it  that  way.  Most  of  these 
junk-men  are  no  better  than  animals,  and  we  do 
them  a  clean  favor  by  ending  their  sufferings.  Yes, 
sir,  that's  the  way  to  look  at  the  matter,  my  son. 
There  isn't  a  man  alive  who  can  look  back  and  see 
anything  in  his  life  worth  living  for  and  suffering  for. 
It's  all  in  his  mind's  eye  that  something  will  be  bet- 
ter in  the  future.  We  know  that's  all  blamed  non- 
sense, for  that  something  better  never  comes,  so  in 
helping  him  to  what's  coming  to  all  of  us  we  just 
do  him  a  favor.  Now,  you  are  a  likely  chap,  Camp, 
and  I  hope  you'll  see  the  reason  of  things.  Go  be- 
low and  tell  one  of  the  girls  we  got  yesterday  to 
give  you  your  grog.  Collins  has  the  key.  Then  you 


Captain  Craven's  Courage 


want  to  bear  a  hand  and  get  our  little  battery  in 
working  order.  We'll  raise  half  a  dozen  junks  be- 
fore night  and  we've  got  a  little  business  with  the 
first  one." 

In  a  short  time  all  hands  were  hard  at  work  get- 
ting the  brig's  twelve-pounders  in  working  order.  In 
the  late  afternoon  a  lateen-sail  showed  above  the 
horizon,  and  everything  was  ready  for  action.  By 
night  the  junk  ahead  was  still  out  of  range,  and  the 
watch  was  set,  and  half  the  men  went  below  to  get 
some  rest. 

At  two  in  the  morning  Camp  was  turned  out,  and 
the  smudge  on  the  lee  bow  showed  that  the  brig 
would  soon  have  the  wind  of  the  unsuspecting 
Chinaman.  In  half  an  hour  Craven  had  him  under 
his  lee,  and  he  paid  off  gradually  until  he  brought 
him  fair  on  his  lee  broadside,  not  two  hundred  feet 
distant.  Then  he  swung  up  his  ports  and  let  go  his 
battery,  serving  it  with  remarkable  accuracy  and 
rapidity. 

The  astonished  Chinaman  let  go  everything  in  the 
way  of  running  gear,  and  the  junk,  which  was  run- 
ning free,  broached  to  and  lay  helpless,  wallowing 
in  the  swell,  with  her  deck  crowded  with  screaming 
men.  Craven  then  brought  the  Cristobal  to,  and 
taking  the  boat  with  four  men,  carried  a  line  to  the 
junk,  and  soon  had  her  alongside. 

The  Chinamen  were  bound  hand  and  foot  after  sev- 
eral who  showed  fight  were  killed.  Then  Craven  had 
them  transferred  to  the  Cristobal,  and  with  untiring 
energy  went  to  work  to  transfer  his  ammunition  and 

'55 


The  Wind-jammers 


guns  to  the  junk.  It  was  noon  before  this  was  ac- 
complished, and  then  he  told  the  Chinaman  who  was 
the  junk's  captain  that  he  really  owed  him  much 
for  swapping  such  a  fine  Spanish  brig  for  his  worth- 
less old  hulk.  In  consideration  of  this  debt  he  re- 
quested him  to  keep  the  brig  on  her  course  to  the 
Peninsula,  and  crowd  on  all  sail  if  he  saw  an  English 
gunboat  in  his  wake.  If  he  failed,  and  showed  such 
ingratitude  as  to  disobey  this  request  during  the 
next  twenty-four  hours,  he  hinted  in  a  mild  way 
that  he  would  overhaul  him,  and  then  fry  him  in 
whale-oil  and  serve  him  to  his  shipmates.  As 
Craven  was  never  known  to  make  an  idle  threat,  the 
conversation  had  its  desired  effect  The  Cristobal 
stood  away  on  her  course  with  a  Chinese  crew,  and 
Craven,  bracing  his  lateen-sail  sharp  on  the  wind, 
headed  slowly  back  again  over  the  course  he  had 
just  run. 

About  eight  bells  in  the  afternoon  the  Sovereign 
was  sighted  dead  ahead.  She  was  driving  along  full 
speed  with  a  bone  in  her  teeth.  That  is,  with  the 
bow  wave  roaring  off  on  either  side  in  a  snowy- 
white  smother,  looking  like  a  great  white  streak 
against  her  dark  cut-water. 

She  passed  within  hailing  distance,  and  Craven 
kept  below  the  rail  and  rubbed  his  wounded  leg 
while  he  smiled  grimly. 

"  I've  a  notion  to  let  go  at  her,"  said  he  to  Camp. 
"  We  could  slap  a  couple  of  twelves  into  her  before 
she  knew  what  was  up.  I'd  like  to  see  her  skipper 
with  a  couple  of  shot  through  his  teakettle  before 

156 


Captain  Craven's  Courage 


he  knew  where  he  was  at.  Jim,  suppose  you  lay  the 
port  guns  on  her." 

But  Collins  had  sense  enough  not  to  get  the  guns 
trained  in  time.  In  ten  minutes  the  gunboat  was  a 
speck  on  the  horizon. 

Craven  knew  she  would  overhaul  the  brig  in  a  few 
hours,  but  hoped  his  merciful  attack  on  the  junk's 
crew  would  lessen  the  heat  of  the  chase.  He  might 
have  sunk  her  and  escaped,  but  his  fancy  took  a  dif- 
ferent turn,  and  he  played  his  game  out. 

Before  sundown  he  was  rapidly  nearing  the  China 
coast  and  several  junks  were  made  out  ahead.  All 
hands,  tired  as  they  were,  turned  out  and  stood  by 
for  a  fracas.  It  was  not  long  in  coming. 

The  nearest  junk  was  laid  close  under  Craven's 
lee  and  the  Chinamen  could  be  seen  crowding  about 
her  decks.  He  was  so  close  a  conversation  could  be 
carried  on  with  the  men  on  the  junk,  and  the  rush 
of  the  foam  under  her  forefoot  sounded  loud  upon 
Camp's  ears. 

Craven  let  go  his  port  broadside  into  her  without 
warning.  In  five  minutes  he  had  her  alongside. 
Several  of  her  crew  were  dead,  but  he  lost  no  time 
in  transferring  the  living  to  his  junk  and  making 
them  lend  a  hand  to  shift  his  guns  again.  Then  he 
sailed  away  with  his  battery  transferred  for  the  second 
time. 

Craven  fought  his  way  up  the  coast,  shifting  his 
guns  and  ammunition  from  vessel  to  vessel  at  every 
available  opportunity.  Towns  that  had  been  warned 
of  his  approach  in  a  junk,  would  §Qe_  a  peaceful 


The  Wind-jammers 


trading  schooner  come  quietly  into  the  harbor  at 
dusk.  Nothing  would  be  thought  of  this  until  in  the 
early  hours  of  the  morning  a  heavy  cannonade  would 
arouse  his  victims,  and  those  who  survived  would 
see  the  finest  vessel  there  standing  out  to  sea  in  tow 
of  a  schooner  that  fairly  disappeared  in  the  smoke 
of  her  own  guns.  The  pirate  had  ammunition  in 
plenty  within  three  days'  sail  of  Hong-Kong,  and 
he  dodged  everything  sent  after  him  for  nearly  a 
year.  He  kept  the  sea  with  remarkable  cunning, 
and  his  absolute  fearlessness  won  him  many  recruits. 

Once  he  was  heard  from  far  down  the  Straits  of 
Malacca,  where  he  engaged  a  Malay  pirate  for  sev- 
eral hours  whose  crew  outnumbered  his  ten  to  one. 
He  finally  sank  her  with  all  hands. 

A  few  months  after  this  he  again  fell  in  with  the 
gunboat  Sovereign.  He  was  sailing  a  huge  junk  at 
this  time,  and  under  this  disguise  came  near  escaping 
again.  He  was  recognized,  however,  and  captured 
with  his  entire  crew.  They  were  taken  to  Hong- 
Kong.  Here  he  was  confined  for  nearly  a  year,  an 
object  of  curiosity,  until  they  were  ready  to  cut  off 
his  head. 

He  and  his  men  were  led  out  every  day  or  two 
and  held  in  line  while  the  swordsman  walked  along 
them  with  upraised  blade.  When  this  grim  execu- 
tioner had  chosen  a  man,  which  he  did  at  random, 
he  would  bring  the  weapon  down  suddenly  upon 
the  back  of  his  neck.  This  was  trying  on  the  nerves 
of  those  of  the  crew  who  had  to  look  on.  No  one 
knew  just  when  his  turn  would  come. 

158 


Captain  Craven's  Courage 


Craven,  however,  stood  it  well  for  a  month  or  two 
and  was  apparently  indifferent  to  the  sight  of  death, 
but  the  long  strain  of  hunting  his  fellow-men  and 
of  being  hunted  in  turn  by  them  had  done  its  work. 
His  nervous  energy  had  been  pretty  well  used  up. 
One  day  a  trader  came  into  the  harbor  and  brought 
a  woman  to  the  English  consul's.  She  claimed  to 
be  Craven's  wife.  It  took  some  time  before  she 
could  get  to  see  her  husband,  but  through  the 
consul's  influence  she  finally  did.  Then  came  the 
break  in  the  man's  nerve. 

From  that  time  on  he  trembled  when  the  sword 
struck.  At  the  end  of  a  week  he  was  hysterical, 
and  they  had  to  hold  him  when  they  brought  him 
out.  His  sole  idea  now  was  to  live  to  see  the 
woman  who  had  caused  his  ruin.  This  he  struggled 
and  cried  for,  and  the  idea  of  separating  from  her 
again  caused  him  more  agony  than  one  can  well 
conceive. 

The  Chinese  are  always  particular  that  great 
criminals  of  theirs  shall  get  great  punishments. 
Craven's  sufferings  were  prolonged  as  much  as  pos- 
sible. There  were  forty  men  of  his  crew  taken  with 
him,  and  he  had  seen  the  heads  of  nearly  all  cut 
off.  When  his  turn  came,  and  it  was  next  the  last, 
he  screamed  shrilly  as  the  swordsman  swung  up  the 
blade  two  or  three  times  over  the  victim's  head 
before  giving  the  final  stroke.  Craven  was  trem- 
bling all  over.  He  cried  and  begged  for  a  little 
delay.  His  horror  of  death  was  terrible,  and  he 
pleaded  to  see  his  wife  once  more.  The  idea  of 

'59 


The  Wind-jammers 


separating  from  her  now  forever  was  more  than  he 
could  stand,  and  it  caused  the  greatest  possible 
amusement  to  the  on-lookers.  They  laughed  and 
drew  their  long  pigtails  upward,  meaningly,  in  de- 
rision. When  the  sword  fell,  Craven  had  gone 
entirely  to  pieces  and  died  the  death  of  a  most 
pitiable  coward. 

Camp,  who  was  the  only  man  left,  finally  managed 
to  get  the  English  consul  to  intercede  in  his  behalf. 
He  was  afterwards  released,  but  his  sufferings  had 
been  so  great  during  his  imprisonment  that  he  died 
soon  afterwards. 


THE  DEATH  OFHUATICARA 

WE  were  lying  in  the  stream  with  the  topsails 
hanging  in  the  buntlines.  Everything  was 
stowed  ready  for  getting  under  way.  The 
night  was  very  dark,  as  the  sky  was  obscured  by  the 
lumpy  clouds  which  had  been  banking  in  from  the 
westward  all  day  before  the  light  sea-breeze.  Now 
it  was  dead  calm,  and  the  water  was  smooth  and 
streaky  as  it  rippled  past  the  anchor-chain  and  cut- 
water, making  a  low  lapping  sound  in  the  gloom  be- 
neath us,  which  was  intensified  by  the  stillness  of 
the  quiet  bay. 

Gantline  and  I  sat  on  the  forecastle-rail,  watching 
the  lights  of  the  city  and  small  craft  anchored  closer 
in  shore.  On  the  port  bow  the  black  hull  of  the 
Blanco  Encalada  loomed  like  a  monster  in  the 
gloom,  her  anchor-lights  shining  like  eyes  of  fire. 
Her  black  funnel  gave  forth  a  light  vapor  which 
shone  for  an  instant  against  the  dark  sky  and  van- 
ished. Long  tapering  shadows  cast  in  the  dim  light 
of  her  turret  ports  told  plainly  that  she  had  her 
guns  ready  for  emergencies.  She  lay  there  silent 
and  grim  in  the  darkness,  and  our  clipper  bark  of 
a  thousand  tons  appeared  like  a  pilot-fish  nestling 
under  the  protecting  jaws  of  some  monster  shark,  as 
we  compared  the  two  vessels  in  respect  to  size  and 
strength. 

It  was  quite  late  and  our  last  boat  had  come 

ii  161 


The  Wind-jammers 


aboard  some  time  since,  bringing  our  skipper,  Zach- 
ary  Green,  his  pretty  daughter,  and  two  passengers. 
At  daylight  we  would  clear  with  the  ebb-tide  and 
land-breeze  of  the  early  morning,  and  then,  with 
good  luck,  we  would  make  an  offing  and  stand  away 
for  the  States.  We  were  sick  of  the  war-ridden 
country,  and  even  the  town  of  Valparaiso  itself  of- 
fered no  attraction  for  us.  Our  cargo  hardly  paid 
enough  freight  money  to  buy  the  vessel  a  suit  of 
sails,  and  it  was  with  a  feeling  of  great  relief  that 
we  steved  in  the  last  bale  and  closed  the  hatches. 

While  we  sat  on  the  rail  we  heard  a  slight  rippling 
in  the  water  ahead  of  the  vessel.  It  sounded  as  if 
a  large  fish  was  making  its  way  slowly  across  the 
bows.  We  listened  in  silence  for  some  moments 
while  the  sounds  came  nearer.  I  looked  aft  and  saw 
two  figures  in  the  light  from  the  after  companion-way, 
and  I  recognized  Miss  Green  and  the  smaller  of  the 
two  passengers  standing  close  to  the  hatch.  The 
sounds  in  the  water  interested  me  no  longer,  and 
I  gazed  rather  hard  at  the  figures  aft.  The  two  pas- 
sengers, who  were  missionaries  on  their  way  home, 
had  been  aboard  ship  several  times  during  the  last 
week,  but  they  had  always  been  so  pious  and  reserved 
in  manner  that  I  never  once  thought  to  see  one  of 
them  talking  to  a  young  woman  alone  at  such  a  late 
hour.  But  there  are  many  things  a  sailor  must  learn 
not  to  see.  Memory  is  not  always  a  congenial  friend 
of  his. 

Suddenly  I  heard  a  sound  of  some  one  breathing, 
followed  by  a  smothered  oath,  coming  from  the 

162 


The  Death  of  Huaticara 


direction  of  the  rippling  water  which  drew  more  and 
more  beneath  us. 

"  Ha !  Voila,  me  gay  sons,  que  voules  vous — si 
padrone. — Hace  bien  tiempo,  manana — hell-fire  but 
the  bloody  lingo  gets  crossways  of  me  gullet,"  came 
a  deep  voice  from  the  black  water. 

"  Och  !  stow  ye  grandsons,  ye  blathering  ijiot,  an' 
kape  yer  sinses.  If  them's  Dagoes  on  watch  'twill 
be  all  up  with  us.  Whist,  then  !  Ye  men  on  the 
fo'c'stle  !" 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Gantline  and  I  in 
the  same  breath. 

"  Faith,  an'  if  yez  have  a  drap  av  th'  milk  av  hu- 
man pity  in  yer  hearts,  ye' 11  give  two  poor  divils  a 
lift  out  av  this  haythen  country.  Say  not  er  whurd, 
but  let  us  come  on  deck  quiet  like.  Ef  ye  don't, 
th'  blood  av  two  innocent  men  will  be  upon  yer 
sowls  fer  ever  an'  ever,  amen.  Spake  aisy." 

"  Now,  Lord  love  ye,  what  kind  of  a  man  is  this  ?" 
asked  Gantline,  as  a  naked  man  climbed  slowly  up 
the  martingale-stays  and  crouched  close  to  the  star- 
board bow  out  of  sight  of  the  man-of-war. 

"By  th'  luck  av  Lyndon  !  Is  this  old  Tom  Gant- 
line who  talks?  Gorry,  man,  we've  just  escaped 
from  th'  prison  on  th'  beach.  Don't  you  remember 
me?  I'm  Mike  McManus,  own  cousin  to  Reddy 
O'Toole  who  used  to  be  mate  with  ye  an'  owld  man 
Crojack." 

"  No,  I  don't  remember  you,"  answered  Gantline  ; 
"but  if  you  had  said  you  were  any  one  else  you 
would  have  gone  overboard  again  fast  enough.  No 


The  Wind-jammers 


one  but  a  chip  of  that  devil's  limb,  O'Toole,  would 
have  come  out  here  in  this  tideway,  right  under  the 
guns  of  that  man-o'-war.  Who's  with  you  ?"  and  he 
peered  over  at  the  man  who  still  clung  to  the  bob- 
stays  as  if  uncertain  whether  to  trust  himself  on 
board  or  again  swim  for  it 

"That's  a  man  called  Collins,  a  'Frisco  man,  who 
got  taken  along  with  me,  when  we  was  smugglin'  in 
th'  rifles,  up  to  th'  north' ard.  Whist !  below  there  ; 
come  up  and  make  yerself  known  amongst  friends. 
We're  safe." 

"  I  ain't  so  almighty  certain  about  that,"  growled 
Gantline  ;  "  what  am  I  to  do  with  you  but  put  you 
ashore?  I  can't  run  the  risk  of  having  the  vessel 
overhauled  for  such  fellows  as  you.  You  may  be 
some  bloody  cutthroats  for  all  I  know.  What  do 
you  mean  by  smuggling  rifles?  Ain't  there  enough 
on  shore  without  bringing  any  more  into  this  infernal 
country?  I  reckon  a  rifle  won't  look  as  if  it  was 
worth  so  much  when  they  stand  you  up  against  a 
wall  and  let  you  peep  into  the  muzzle  of  a  dozen  or 
two." 

"Ah,  shipmate,  ye  haven't  the  heart  to  turn  us 
over  fer  that,  when  all  we've  done  was  to  try  an'  land 
a  few  fer  thim  poor  fellows,  an'  this  Dago  with  his 
ironclad  overhauled  us.  Oh,  me  boy,  ye  haven't 
seen  th'  inside  av  one  av  thim  black  iron  holes  on 
th'  beach,  to  talk  av  puttin'  us  ashore  again.  Gord  ! 
men,  to  sit  ther  fer  six  whole  months  behind  them 
steel  walls  and  never  see  th'  sun  rise  or  set,  an'  do 
nothing  but  kill  lice  and  chintz-bugs  all  day  long, 

164 


The  Death  of  Huaticara 


an'  all  night.  No,  ye  may  be  in  sympathy  with 
Chilly,  but  ye  have  th'  look  av  a  sailor-man  for  all 
that" 

As  he  spoke  he  climbed  to  the  catheads  and  drew 
himself  gently  onto  the  top  of  the  top-gallant-fore- 
castle. He  was  followed  by  the  man  Collins. 

They  crouched  shivering  behind  the  capstan,  and 
I  saw  they  were  in  a  bad  condition.  They  were 
wasted  and  gaunt,  and  their  flesh  had  a  soft,  sickly 
look,  as  if  they  had  spent  a  long  time  in  close  con- 
finement. The  hair  of  their  heads  was  long  and 
matted.  How  they  swam  so  far  in  that  tideway  was 
strange,  and  told  plainly  of  their  desperate  courage 
in  attempting  to  escape  from  the  terrors  of  the 
beach. 

Gantline  stood  irresolute  a  moment,  looking  at 
their  shivering  forms.  Then  he  glanced  sharply  at 
the  man  on  watch,  who  walked  in  the  port  gangway. 
It  was  too  dark  to  see  him  distinctly,  so  trusting  that 
he  in  turn  had  seen  nothing  of  what  had  occurred 
forward,  he  started  aft.  The  two  figures  I  had  no- 
ticed a  few  minutes  before  had  now  disappeared. 

"Keep  quiet,"  I  said  to  the  naked  men,  whose 
teeth  chattered  in  the  cool  night  air.  "  Lie  flat  on 
deck  until  he  comes  back  and  perhaps  we  can  do 
something.  Haste  !  Not  a  word  !" 

The  man  Mike  was  about  to  make  some  reply,  but 
at  that  moment  the  fellow  on  watch  came  close  to 
the  edge  of  the  forecastle.  I  stepped  quickly  in 
front  of  the  man,  and  in  doing  so  trod  on  a  project- 
ing foot  which  cracked  horribly,  and,  twisting,  brought 

165 


The  Wind-jammers 


me  down  in  a  heap  upon  them.  A  deep  groan 
told  of  the  damage  done,  but  I  instantly  regained 
myself  and  began  to  hum  a  song  in  a  low  bass 
voice. 

The  man  on  the  main-deck  stopped  a  moment 
and  looked  hard  at  me ,  but  it  was  so  dark  he  could 
see  but  little  and  my  singing  reassured  him,  so  he 
turned  again  and  went  off 

In  a  short  time  Gantline  returned  with  a  bundle. 

"  Now,  bear  a  hand  there,  you  men,  and  put  these 
clothes  on  in  a  quarter  less  no  time,"  he  whispered. 
"  Come,  hurry  up,"  and  he  passed  a  shirt  and  a  pair 
of  dungaree  trousers  to  each. 

"  Och  !  he  has  broken  me  toe  clane  off,"  groaned 
Mike,  slipping  on  the  garments.  His  companion 
dressed  rapidly  in  silence. 

"  Now  then,  up  you  go,  both  of  you,  into  the 
foretop,  and  lie  out  of  sight  till  we  get  to  sea,  and 
if  I  see  a  hair  of  your  heads  inside  the  next  twenty- 
four  hours  I'll  turn  you  both  over  on  the  beach. 
Here,  take  a  nip  apiece  before  you  go,"  and  he 
passed  a  small  bottle  to  the  man  Collins. 

The  poor  fellow's  eyes  sparkled  as  he  thrust  the 
neck  of  it  into  his  thick  beard  and  tilted  his  head 
back  in  order  to  let  the  liquor  have  free  way  down 
his  throat.  Gantline  suddenly  jerked  it  out  of  his 
hand  and  passed  it  to  the  Irishman,  who  put  it  to 
his  lips,  gave  a  grunt  of  disgust,  and  threw  the 
empty  bottle  over  the  side. 

"  Now  wait  till  you  see  me  go  aft  with  the  watch, 
\nd  then  aloft  with  you,"  said  Gantline,  as  he  left  us. 

1 66 


The  Death  of  Huaticara 


When  he  reached  the  man  he  started  off  with 
him  to  the  quarter-deck,  and  as  they  disappeared 
together  over  the  break  of  the  poop  the  men 
crawled  for  the  rigging.  They  were  so  weak  from 
their  exertions  that  it  seemed  as  if  they  would  never 
get  over  the  futtock-shrouds,  but  finally  the  man 
Collins  gained  the  top,  and  dragged  his  companion 
after  him.  Then  I  went  into  the  forward  cabin  and 
took  what  salt-junk  was  left  and  carried  it  aloft 
before  Gantline  returned.  By  the  time  I  reached 
the  deck  he  had  started  forward  again  and  joined 
me  on  the  forecastle.  His  seamed  and  lined  face 
wore  an  anxious  look  as  he  took  his  place  beside 
me  and  acted  as  if  nothing  had  happened  to  seri- 
ously interrupt  our  former  conversation.  We  sat  a 
few  moments  discussing  our  stowaways  and  then 
went  aft  to  get  a  little  sleep  before  clearing. 

I  turned  in  and  lay  awake  thinking  of  the  men 
in  the  foretop,  hoping  nothing  would  occur  to  make 
it  necessary  for  more  than  one  man  to  go  aloft  there. 
The  sails  were  all  loosed  except  the  foreroyal,  and 
this  I  would  go  aloft  for  myself. 

It  was  past  midnight  before  I  lost  consciousness, 
and  it  seemed  almost  instantly  afterwards  Gantline 
poked  his  head  in  my  doorway  and  announced, 
"Eight  bells,  sir."  I  turned  out  and  found  it  was 
still  dark,  but  a  faint  light  in  the  east  told  of  the 
approaching  day.  The  men  were  getting  their 
coffee  from  the  galley,  and  the  steward  was  on  his 
way  to  the  cabin  with  three  large  steaming  cups  for 
the  skipper  and  passengers.  A  light  air  was  ruffling 

167 


The  Wind-jammers 


the  water  and  the  tide  was  setting  seaward,  so  if 
nothing  unusual  happened  we  would  soon  be  stand- 
ing out.  The  dark  outlines  of  the  Blanco  Encalada 
began  to  take  more  definite  shape,  but  all  was  quiet 
on  board  of  her. 

By  the  time  the  men  finished  their  coffee  Zachary 
Green  came  on  deck,  and  then  he  gave  the  order  to 
"  heave  short" 

In  a  few  moments  all  was  noise  and  bustle  on 
the  forecastle-head.  The  clanking  of  the  windlass 
mingling  with  the  hoarse  cries  of  "  Ho  !  the  roarin' 
river !"  and  "  Heave  down,  Bullies,"  broke  the  still- 
ness of  the  quiet  harbor. 

"Anchor's  short,  sir  !"  roared  Gantline's  stentorian 
voice  from  the  starboard  cathead.  This  was  followed 
by  an  order  to  sheet  home  the  topsails.  In  a  few 
minutes  we  broke  clear  and  swung  off  to  starboard 
with  the  fore-  and  main-yards  aback.  Then  we 
came  around  and  stood  out  with  the  ebb-tide,  the 
light  breeze  sending  us  along  with  good  steering  way. 

In  a  short  time  we  hauled  our  wind  around  the 
point,  and,  with  everything  drawing  fore  and  aft  to 
the  puffs  that  came  over  the  highlands,  we  started 
to  make  our  offing,  leaving  the  Blanco  Encalada 
with  her  brass-work  shining  in  the  first  rays  of  the 
rising  sun.  We  had  gone  clear  without  mishap, 
but  although  we  were  making  six  knots  an  hour  off 
the  land,  we  knew  the  breeze  would  not  hold  after 
the  sun  rose.  As  we  expected,  it  fell  before  the 
men  had  finished  breakfast,  and  we  lay  becalmed  a 
few  miles  off  shore  on  a  sea  of  oily  smoothness. 

1 68 


The  Death  of  Huaticara 


The  passengers  came  on  deck  to  take  a  last  look 
at  the  harbor  astern,  and  their  voices  sounded  pleas- 
ant to  the  ear  as  they  held  forth  on  the  beauties  of 
a  morning  in  the  South  Pacific. 

These  passengers  were  both  clerical-looking  men, 
and  were  fair  types  of  the  missionaries  who  live  on 
the  islands  of  the  South  Sea.  They  had  engaged 
passage  to  the  States  more  than  a  week  before 
we  sailed,  and  since  then  were  almost  inseparable. 
Their  clothes  were  of  some  dark  material,  much 
alke  in  cut,  but  their  faces  and  head-gear  were  in 
marked  contrast. 

The  younger  one  had  a  smooth,  sallow  face,  with- 
out a  sign  of  beard,  and  wore  a  low  black  hat  with 
a  broad  rim.  The  other  looked  to  be  ten  years 
older,  apparently  a  little  over  fifty.  His  face  was  as 
brown  as  a  sailor's  and  an  enormous  beard  covered 
it  almost  to  the  eyes,  which  sparkled  merrily  from 
under  an  old  slouch  hat.  His  hair  was  also  long, 
and  his  figure  was  of  gigantic  build. 

"I  was  speaking  to  those  poor  fellows  in  the 
prison  there  only  yesterday,"  the  younger  one  was 
saying,  as  I  came  aft,  "  and  I  did  my  best  to  cheer 
them,  but  they  were  both  much  set  against  spiritual 
consolation ;  and  the  one,  McManus,  stole  my 
pocket-knife  with  its  saw  blade,  which  I  used  to 
carry  to  cut  cocoanuts." 

"How  do  you  know  it  was  he  who  took  it? 
Might  not  you  have  lost  it?"  asked  the  big  man, 
with  a  smile. 

"  Do  you  suppose  I  would  bear  false  witness 
169 


The  Wind-jammers 


against  any  man?"  replied  the  younger,  in  a  tone 
of  reproach.  "  I  noticed  he  came  close  to  me  while 
I  was  praying  for  him,  and  felt  his  hand  touch  me, 
but  did  not  know  my  loss  until  after  I  left  the  prison. 
It  will  do  him  little  good,  however,  as  he  and  his 
companion  in  crime  are  to  be  shot  this  morning. 
It  is  probably  just  as  well,  for  I  know  that  those 
sailor  men  are  a  wicked  lot  and  much  given  to 
wine,  women,  and  desperate  deeds." 

"Ah  !"  said  the  big  man  in  a  deep  voice,  "it  is 
probably  true  ;  but  you  are  rather  severe  on  sailor- 
men,  for  all  that  These  sailors  are  an  intelligent 
lot  for  the  most  part  And  think  you,  dear  friend, 
that  there  is  probably  not  one  who  would  not  rather 
marry  a  sweet,  good  woman  and  live  a  pleasant  and 
pious  life,  even  as  we  ourselves  do.  We  do  this 
because  we  have  money  to  maintain  our  positions ; 
but  the  sailor  has  our  -feelings  and  longings  without 
the  means  to  gratify  them,  and,  as  he  is  intelligent 
enough  to  see  that  his  life  is  hopeless,  he  gets  as 
much  pleasure  out  of  it  as  possible  and  hesitates 
not  at  a  desperate  deed  for  gain." 

"  Charity  is  very  good  and  noble,  but  it  gives  me 
great  pain  to  hear  you  express  such  unsound  views 
as  that  If  it  were  not  for  the  many  noble  deeds 
you  have  done  for  the  islanders,  I  should  be  tempted 
to  shun  you  as  a  recreant  I  trust  you  only  jest, 
but  it  is  even  ill  to  jest  on  such  subjects,"  answered 
the  younger,  with  a  flushed  face  and  a  voice  vibrating 
with  suppressed  feeling. 

The  big  man  made  no  answer  to  this,  but  suddenly 
170 


The  Death  of  Huaticara 


called  his  companion's  attention  to  several  large 
"  alberco"  which  had  followed  the  ship  until  she  lay 
becalmed,  and  then  plunged  and  jumped  like  so  many 
porpoises  in  the  wake.  We  drifted  slowly  all  the 
morning,  and  about  noon  the  sea-breeze  set  in  from 
the  southward  and  sent  us  along  at  a  comfortable 
rate.  Nothing  occurred  to  make  it  necessary  for  a 
man  to  go  aloft  in  the  foretop,  and  those  who  had 
gone  up  the  main  and  mizzen  in  the  early  morning 
had  noticed  nothing  unusual.  The  platform  in  the 
top  was  as  large  as  that  in  a  full-rigged  ship,  so  the 
men  who  were  hiding  were  not  visible  from  the  deck 
as  long  as  they  lay  flat  on  their  backs  or  faces. 

Gantline  had  decided  to  tell  the  skipper  the  whole 
affair  of  the  night  before,  but  the  old  man  was  in 
such  a  bad  humor  that  the  mate  delayed  telling  him 
until  the  prospect  of  a  serious  burst  of  anger  was 
less  apparent. 

The  day  wore  on  and  the  bark  held  steadily  on 
to  the  westward,  making  from  eight  to  ten  knots  an 
hour.  After  supper  the  skipper  came  on  deck  with 
his  passengers  and  they  were  soon  joined  by  Miss 
Green.  They  sat  aft  around  the  taffrail  and  chatted, 
the  men  smoking  and  very  much  at  the/ir  ease. 

Miss  Green  was  of  an  extremely  religious  disposi- 
tion, but  it  was  easy  to  see  that  it  was  not  entirely 
the  devoutness  of  the  younger  passenger  that  at- 
tracted her  to  him.  There  was  a  mysterious  power 
about  the  man  that  was  apparent  to  any  one  after 
being  an  hour  in  his  company.  Something  in  his 
deep,  vibrating  voice,  when  he  was  talking,  appeared 

171 


The  Wind-jammers 


to  hold  the  attention,  and  I,  more  than  once,  looked 
at  him  as  he  sat  next  to  the  skipper's  daughter, 
holding  forth  on  matters  of  the  church. 

Zachary  Green  was  still  in  a  bad  humor  because 
of  his  low  freight  money,  and  it  was  evident  that  he 
would  ease  his  pent-up  feelings  on  some  one.  He 
had  listened  to  the  talk  of  the  missionaries  with  ill- 
concealed  contempt,  whenever  they  fell  to  discussing 
their  ecclesiastical  affairs,  and  now  he  asked  the 
younger  abruptly  when  he  was  to  return. 

"Ah,"  replied  he,  "I  shall  return  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible, for  my  flock  will  get  along  poorly  without  me. 
I  have  converted  many  chiefs,  who  wrangle  among 
themselves,  as  has  also  my  friend  here." 

The  skipper  turned  with  a  look  of  disdain  at  the 
big-bearded  man  who  appeared  to  understand  the 
implied  interrogation  and  hastened  to  answer.  "  It 
is  true,  I  have  converted  many  to  the  Christian 
faith,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice,  "  but  I  shall  not  return 
to  the  islands  of  the  Pacific,  for  I  think  there  is  a 
better  field  nearer  home.  Not  that  I  believe  my 
labors  wasted,  for  the  converted  natives  never  stole 
anything  but  ammunition  and  utensils,  while  the 
others  stole  everything  from  me  they  could  lay  hand 
to.  Not  that  the  effort  was  entirely  vain,  I  say, 
but  that  better  work  can  be  done  among  our  own 
people,  such  as  sailors,  for  instance." 

"Eh  !  What's  that?"  growled  Zachary  Green,  as 
he  listened  to  the  last  part  of  this  sentence.  "  What 
do  you  mean  by  sailors  ?"  and  his  eyes  flashed  omi- 
nously. 

172 


The  Death  of  Huaticara 


"Why,  go  among  them,  and  see  that  they  get 
the  proper  books  in  the  libraries  sent  out  on  vessels 
for  them  to  read,  for  instance." 

"  Now,  by  Gorry  !  you  are  talking  some  sense. 
Instead  of  whining  around  among  a  lot  of  good- 
for-nothing  niggers,  like  your  friend  here,  you'll 
really  do  something  if  you  follow  that  up.  Yes,  sir, 
if  you'll  only  put  something  in  these  libraries  be- 
sides 'Two  Years  before  the  Mast,'  Bible  diction- 
aries, and  the  like,  and  get  some  police  reports 
nicely  bound,  along  with  some  yarns  like  '  Davy 
Crockett,'  you'll  be  a  blessing  to  sailors,  and  skip- 
pers, too,  for  that  matter.  No,  sir,  don't  play  fool 
with  those  islanders  any  further.  They  were  all 
right  before  they  ever  saw  a  Christian,  and  they've 
been  all  wrong  ever  since.  Hang  it,  you  talk  like  a 
man  of  sense,  after  all,  and  I  hope  what  I've  said 
won't  be  lost  on  you."  And  as  he  finished  his  per- 
oration he  stood  up  and  looked  astern. 

"  Hello  !" 

Before  the  astonished  missionaries  could  say  a 
word  the  skipper  started  for  his  glasses,  and,  seizing 
them,  he  looked  steadily  at  a  faint  trail  of  smoke 
which  rose  above  the  horizon  directly  in  the  vessel's 
wake. 

"  Now,  by  Gorry  !  That's  strange,"  he  muttered. 
"  There's  no  steamer  bound  out  to-day,  and  yet  that 
fellow  seems  to  be  standing  right  after  us." 

"  Mr.  Gantline  !"  he  called,  as  he  turned  towards 
where  the  mate  stood.  "  Go  aloft  with  the  glass  and 
see  if  you  can  make  out  that  fellow  astern  of  us." 


The  Wind-jammers 


"  Aye,  aye,  sir !"  answered  Gantline.  And  he 
took  the  skipper's  glass  and  made  his  way  leisurely 
up  the  main-ratlines. 

From  the  lower  top  he  could  see  nothing  but  a 
black  funnel  and  masts  without  yards,  so  he  went 
higher.  On  reaching  the  cross-trees  he  looked  for- 
ward, and  there,  lying  prone  on  their  stomachs,  were 
the  two  hiding  men.  Their  eyes  were  straining  at 
the  vessel  astern,  and  even  if  Gantline  had  not 
already  made  out  who  she  was,  one  look  at  those 
faces  would  have  told  him.  He  came  on  deck  and 
returned  the  skipper's  glasses  without  a  word,  and 
then  started  forward,  but  Zachary  Green  stopped 
him. 

"  Could  you  make  her  out  ?"  he  asked. 

"Well,  there  isn't  much  of  her  rising  yet,  but  I 
suppose  she's  the  Blanco  Encalada,"  he  answered. 

"  Seems  to  me  it  is  hardly  time  for  her  to  put  to 
sea,"  growled  the  skipper,  "  and  she's  heading  almost 
the  same  course  as  we  are.  It  is  generally  the  way 
with  you,  though,  after  you  get  ashore  on  the  beach, 
and  it  will  take  a  week  to  soak  the  liquor  out  of  you 
so  you  can  see  enough  to  know  a  downhaul  from  a 
clew-line."  And  the  old  man  turned  back  to  his 
passengers. 

Before  two  bells  in  the  first  watch  that  evening  it 
was  blowing  half  a  gale  to  the  southward  out  of  a 
clear  sky,  and  the  old  bark  flew  along  on  her  course 
with  everything  drawing  below  and  aloft. 

There  was  no  sea  running,  so  she  heaved  over  and 
drove  along  at  a  rate  that  bade  fair  to  keep  the 

174 


The  Death  of  Huaticara 


Blanco  below  the  horizon  for  several  hours.  As  it 
grew  late  the  air  became  quite  chilly,  and  the  skip- 
per went  below  with  his  passengers. 

The  moon  rose  and  shone  with  great  brilliancy,  so 
that  our  towering  mam-skysail  must  have  been  visi- 
ble a  long  distance,  while  the  foam  flaked  and  surged 
from  the  vessel's  black  hull  as  white  as  a  mass  of 
liquid  silver.  All  night  we  drove  along  with  nothing 
visible  astern,  and  at  daylight  the  hull  of  the  steamer 
was  still  below  the  horizon.  At  seven  bells  Zachary 
Green  came  on  deck 

"Name  o'  thunder !  What's  he  after?"  he  growled, 
as  he  gazed  astern.  "  By  Gorry  !  It  is  the  Blanco, 
after  all,  Gantlme  ;  but  what  makes  him  hold  on  like 
this  ?  We  are  going  to  the  westward  of  Juan  Fer- 
nandez, and  that  is  more  than  a  hundred  miles  out 
of  his  course." 

The  mate  made  no  answer,  but  went  on  with  his 
work  overseeing  the  washing  down  of  the  quarter- 
deck. "  It's  just  like  those  Dagoes  to  go  running 
all  over  the  Southern  Ocean  for  no  other  purpose 
than  to  wear  out  their  gear  and  burn  coal/'  con- 
tinued the  skipper.  "  If  this  wind  keeps  slacking 
up,  he  ought  to  be  abreast  of  us  before  noon,  though 
I  never  knew  this  old  hooker  to  send  the  suds  be- 
hind her  at  the  rate  she's  been  doing  all  night. 
Breakfast !  did  you  say  ?  Well,  steward,  just  give 
those  sky-pilots  a  chance  to  shake  off  the  odor  of 
sanctity  they've  slept  in  and  put  on  their  natural 
one  of  hypocrisy  and  gin-and-bitters.  Pshaw ! 
there's  lots  lazier  men  than  missionaries  in  the 


The  Wind-jammers 


world,  though  I  can't  call  to  mind  exactly  where 
I've  seen  them  Mr.  Gantline,  you  may  let  her 
head  a  point  more  to  the  north'ard."  Saying  this, 
the  skipper  took  a  last  look  at  the  approaching 
steamer  and  then  disappeared  down  the  companion- 
way 

Although  the  vessel  still  raced  along  at  a  rate  that 
sent  the  foam  flying  from  her  sharp  clipper  bows, 
she  was  no  longer  doing  her  utmost,  and  the  Blanco 
rose  rapidly  in  her  wake  with  the  black  smoke  pour- 
ing from  her  funnel. 

Suddenly,  while  Gantline  was  watching  her,  she 
appeared  to  be  enveloped  in  a  white  cloud  of  steam. 
Then  there  was  a  sharp,  shrieking  rush  as  something 
tore  its  way  through  the  air  close  to  the  main-top-gal- 
lant-yard, and  struck  the  smooth  sea  almost  half  a 
mile  ahead,  followed  by  the  sullen  boom  of  a  heavy 
rifled  gun. 

The  rush  of  the  shot  brought  Captain  Green  on 
deck,  closely  followed  by  his  passengers. 

"Gorry!  what's  the  matter?"  he  bawled,  as  he 
/ushed  to  the  taffrail,  while  the  younger  passen- 
ger, who  had  followed  close  at  his  heels,  smiled 
grimly 

The  Blanco  came  driving  heavily  along  a  couple 
of  miles  astern.  She  was  rapidly  drawing  up. 

"Wants  us  to  heave  to,  I  suppose,"  growled  Gant- 
line, and  he  eyed  the  skipper  suspiciously. 

"  Man  alive  !"  roared  Green,  "  why  in  the  name  of 
thunder  don't  you  do  it,  then,  before  he  cuts  the 
spars  out  of  us  ?  Fore-  and  main -royals,  there,  quick  ! 

176 


The  Death  of  Huaticara 


Let  go  by  the  run.  Main-clew-garnets — all  hands  !" 
And  the  skipper  bounded  onto  the  poop  and  cast 
off  everything  he  could  lay  hands  on. 

The  bark  was  soon  luffed  and  her  main-yards 
backed.  Then  the  Blanco  came  abreast,  and  all 
hands  had  a  chance  to  look  into  the  muzzles  of  her 
ten-inch  rifles,  which  were  trained  towards  us.  A 
swarm  of  men  crowded  the  deck  of  the  ironclad 
while  a  boat  shot  out  from  her  side  and  approached 
us  rapidly,  with  a  short,  thick-set  man  in  uniform 
sitting  in  the  stern-sheets. 

Zachary  Green  stood  at  the  break  of  the  poop, 
scowling  at  him  as  he  swung  himself  lightly  into  the 
mizzen-channels  and  leaped  onto  the  quarter-deck, 
followed  by  six  men.  Hardly  had  he  done  so  when 
the  younger  of  our  two  passengers  drew  a  heavy 
revolver  from  somewhere  about  his  back  and  fired 
point-blank  at  this  officer. 

The  Chilian  was  in  the  act  of  drawing  his  sword 
and  the  hilt  was  across  his  breast  at  that  instant 
The  bullet  intended  for  him  struck  the  hilt  and 
flattened  on  the  brass.  The  next  instant  there  was 
a  rapid  fusillade,  the  six  Chilians  firing  together,  and 
the  passenger  with  a  six-shooting  revolver  in  each 
hand,  backing  away  behind  a  cloud  of  smoke. 

It  was  all  over  in  half  a  minute.  Three  of  the 
blue-jackets  were  dead  and  their  officer  badly  hurt 
when  the  firing  ceased.  The  passenger  tossed  his 
empty  pistols  over  the  side  and  staggered  aft,  and 
not  one  of  the  survivors  dared  follow  him.  He  gained 
the  after  companion-way,  and  as  he  did  so  the  figure 
in  177 


The  Wind-jammers 


of  the  captain's  daughter  appeared  on  deck.  I 
could  see  her  face  pale  as  she  caught  the  look  in  the 
passenger's  eyes,  but  she  said  no  word.  He  went 
to  her,  kissed  her  lightly,  and  passed  on  to  the  star- 
board taffrail.  The  Chilians  now  recovered  them- 
selves and  rushed  for  him.  He  climbed  over  with 
difficulty,  but  did  not  hesitate.  Then  he  plunged 
headlong  into  the  sea  before  any  one  could  seize 
him  ;  and  as  we  rushed  to  the  side  we  could  see  his 
body  sink  slowly  down  into  the  green  depths  until  it 
finally  vanished. 

The  skipper,  Gantline,  and  the  big  missionary 
stood  looking  on  in  amazement,  and  then  the 
wounded  officer  turned  towards  them. 

"  That  was  Sefior  Jose  Huaticara ;  of  course  you 
did  not  know."  And  he  nodded  to  the  skipper. 
Then  the  dead  were  placed  in  the  boat,  while  a  tour- 
niquet was  passed  around  the  officer's  leg  to  stop  the 
flow  of  blood  until  he  could  reach  his  ship.  In  a 
few  moments  he  and  his  men  were  on  their  way 
back  to  the  Blanco. 

Zachary  Green  stood  staring  after  them  without  a 
word.  The  name  of  the  dead  desperado  was  too 
well  known  to  him  to  protest  against  the  manner  he 
was  treated  while  on  an  American  ship,  but  he  de- 
sired some  explanation. 

The  Blanco  dipped  her  colors,  and  he  came  to  his 
senses.  "  Hard  up  the  wheel,  there  !"  he  bawled. 
"  Stand  by  the  lee-brace  !"  and  the  bark  paid  off 
again  on  her  course. 

The  ironclad  headed  away  to  the  northward  and 
178 


The  Death  of  Huaticara 


in  a  few  minutes  was  a  couple  of  miles  away  on  the 
starboard  quarter. 

"  I  met  him  only  a  week  ago,"  explained  the  big; 
missionary,  in  answer  to  the  skipper's  look,  "  and  I 
thought,  of  course,  he  was  what  he  claimed  to  be." 

Zachary  Green  gave  a  grunt  of  disgust  and  went 
aft 

"  Mr.  Gantline,"  said  he,  as  he  met  the  mate,  "are 
there  any  more  missionaries  aboard  this  ship,  for  if 
there  are  we  will  put  them  ashore  on  Mas-a-Fuera." 

"  There  are  two  more/'  answered  Gantline,  look- 
ing the  skipper  in  the  eyes. 

"  Show  them  to  me,"  said  the  skipper. 

Gantline  went  forward  and  looked  aloft 

"Come  down  from  there!"  he  bawled,  and  two 
lean  figures  stood  in  the  foretop  and  then  painfully 
descended  the  ratlines  before  the  astonished  gaze  of 
the  crew. 

When  they  gained  the  deck  they  followed  the 
mate  aft  to  Zachary  Green,  who  stared  at  them  in 
amazement 

"  We  are  off  soundings  and  that  fellow  has  no 
right  to  board  me,"  he  said,  "  but  if  you  belong  to 
that  Jose  gang,  I'll  signal  for  him  to  come  back  for 
you." 

"  Faith,  an'  if  we  did,  Captain  Green,  it  isn't  such 
a  crowd  av  cutthroats  as  ye  seem  to  belave,"  said 
McManus.  "The  fact  is  we're  just  broke  away 
from  bein'  shot  fer  no  more  than  th'  carryin'  av  a 
few  Remingtons.  I  see  ye  remember  me,  so  for  th' 

sake  av  auld  times  ye  better  give  us  a  passage  to  th' 

179 


The  Wind-jammers 


States  an'  not  make  Crusoes  av  us  on  the  Fer- 
nandez." 

Zachary  Green  looked  at  Gantline. 

"  It's  the  truth,"  said  the  mate. 

"Truth  be  hanged!  Who  says  it's  the  truth? 
I'll " 

At  that  moment  a  slight  figure  appeared  at  the 
companion-way,  and  the  next  instant  Miss  Green 
seized  her  father's  arm.  He  turned  roughly,  but 
there  was  something  in  the  poor  girl's  face  that  made 
him  look  to  her.  She  led  him  below,  and  the  escaped 
men  stood  staring  after  her. 

"  You  fellows  can  turn  to  with  the  men  forward,' ' 
said  Gantline.  And  they  went 

A  little  later  Zachary  Green  came  on  deck  again 
and  stood  looking  silently  over  the  bright  Pacific. 
He  stood  there  by  the  taffrail  looking  long  at  the 
eastern  horizon.  No  one  approached  or  spoke  to 
him,  for  all  knew  Captain  Green  when  his  mind  was 
full  of  unpleasant  memories. 


1 80 


A  BLUNDER 


ABOUT  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  Garnett 
slid  back  the  hatch-slide  and  bawled,  "  Cape 
Horn,  sir  !" 

Captain  Green  was  asleep,  but  the  news  brought 
him  to  his  feet  in  an  instant,  and  stopping  just  long 
enough  to  complete  his  toilet,  which  consisted  of 
gulping  down  four  fingers  of  stiff  grog,  he  sprang 
up  the  companion-way  and  was  on  deck. 

It  was  broad  daylight,  although  the  wind  had 
shifted  to  the  northward  and  brought  with  it  a  thick 
haze  which  partly  obscured  the  light  of  the  rising 
sun.  Some  miles  away  on  the  weather-beam  rose 
a  rocky  hump,  showing  dimly  through  the  mist ;  but 
its  peculiar  shape,  not  unlike  that  of  a  camel  lying 
down  with  its  head  to  the  westward,  told  plainly 
that  it  was  the  dreaded  Cape.  Beyond  it  lay  Tierra 
del  Fuego,  now  almost  invisible,  and  past  it  swept 
the  high-rolling  seas  of  the  Antarctic  Drift. 

Captain  Green  stood  blinking  and  winking  in  the 
crisp  air  of  the  early  morning  as  Garnett  walked  up. 
It  was  January  and  daylight  twenty  hours  out  of 
twenty-four,  but  it  was  cold  and  the  morning  watch 
was  a  cheerless  one.  The  old  mate  came  up  and 
pointed  to  the  northward. 

"  It's  the  Cape,  I  make  it,  though  it  don't  show 
up  mighty  high.  We've  been  holding  on  like  this 
most  of  my  watch,  but  it's  been  getting  a  dirty  look 

181 


The  Wind-jammers 


to  the  west'ard,"  and  as  he  spoke  he  leaned  over 
the  weather-rail  and  spat  into  the  foam,  which  drifted 
past  at  the  rate  of  six  knots  an  hour. 

"  It's  the  Cape,  right  enough,"  said  Zack  Green ; 
"  and  if  we  can  hold  on  a  few  hours  longer  we  ought 
to  weather  the  Ramirez  and  get  clear.  How's  she 
heading  now?" 

"  Sou' west  b'  sought,"  answered  the  man  at  the 
wheel. 

"Well,"  said  Green,  "there's  almost  four  points 
easterly  variation  here,  so  that  brings  her  head  a 
little  to  the  s'uth'ard  of  west  b'  south.  Let  her  go 
up  all  she  will,  Mr.  Garnett,  and  call  me  when  we 
make  the  Ramirez.  I  don't  believe  much  in  that 
drift ;  it's  all  in  that  big  easterly  variation.  Watch 
the  maint' gallant-sail  if  it  begins  to  come  down  sharp 
from  the  north' ard,"  and  as  he  finished  speaking  the 
skipper  disappeared  down  the  companion-way. 

Garnett  sniffed  the  air  hungrily  as  the  odor  of 
stiff  grog  disappeared  also. 

"'Tis  a  pius  drink,  s'help  me,  'tis  a  pius  drink," 
he  muttered.  "Yes,  a  truly  moral  beverage,  as 
they  would  say  in  the  islands  ;  but  there's  no  use 
thinking  a  dog  of  a  mate  will  get  any  pleasure  in 
these  days  of  thieving  ship-masters."  He  walked 
fore  and  aft  in  no  pleasant  frame  of  mind,  glancing 
at  each  turn  at  the  distant  loom  of  the  land  on  the 
weather-beam. 

"How  d'ye  head?"  he  bawled  to  the  man  at  the 
wheel,  in  total  disregard  for  the  skipper  and  sleeping 
passengers. 

182 


A  Blunder 


"Sought  b'  west  a  quarter  west,  sir,"  answered 
the  helmsman. 

"Well,  what  in  the  name  of  the  great  eternal 
Davy  Jones  are  you  running  the  ship  off  like  that 
for?" 

"She's  touchin'  now,  sir,  an'  goin'  off  all  the 
time." 

"  Going  to "  but  before  he  could  finish  the 

maintop- gallant-sail  came  aback  against  the  mast. 

"  For'ard  there  !  clew  down  the  maint' gallant- 
sail  !"  he  roared,  and  he  looked  sharply  to  windward, 
where  the  giant  Cape  Horn  sea  came  rolling  down 
through  the  deepening  haze. 

"  Maint' gallant-sail !"  echoed  the  cry  forward,  as 
the  men  sang  out  and  jumped  for  the  halyards, 
while  some  of  the  watch  sprang  into  the  ratlines 
and  made  their  way  aloft 

"  Come,  bear  a  hand  there  !  Get  that  sail  rolled 
up  and  lay  aft  to  the  mizzentop-sail." 

The  vessel  was  driving  along  at  a  comfortable 
rate  in  spite  of  the  heavy  sea,  and  it  looked  as 
though  she  might  give  the  grim  Cape  the  slip  and 
go  scudding  away  on  the  other  side  of  the  world. 
A  few  hours  running  to  the  westward  with  the  wind 
holding  and  she  would  go  clear.  But  the  giant  sea 
began  rolling  down  from  the  northwest,  growing 
heavier,  so  by  the  time  the  maintop-gallant-sail  was 
rolled  up  and  eight  bells  struck  it  had  the  true 
Cape  Horn  heave  to  it. 

Mr.  Gantline  came  on  deck  to  relieve  the  mate, 
and  he  soon  had  the  ship  dressed  down  to  her  lower 

183 


The  Wind-jammers 


topsails.  It  was  not  blowing  more  than  an  ordinary 
gale,  but  the  tremendous  sea  made  it  dangerous  to 
force  the  vessel  ahead,  so  she  drifted  and  sagged  off 
to  leeward.  The  "sea-calmer"  was  rigged  forward, 
and  soon  the  water  to  windward  had  an  oily  look, 
while  the  wind,  catching  up  the  tops  of  the  combers, 
hurled  a  spray  down  upon  the  ship  that  made  shroud 
and  backstay,  downhaul,  and  clew-line  smell  strong 
of  fish-oil,  as  they  cut  the  wind  like  bow-strings  and 
hummed  in  unison  until  the  volume  of  sound  swelled 
into  a  deep  booming  roar. 

"  Let  her  come  up  all  she  will !"  bawled  Garnett 
into  Gantline's  ear,  as  he  started  to  go  below.  "  If 
she  sags  off  any  more  you  better  call  the  old  man, 
for  it  looks  bad.  By  the  way,  Gantline,  where's 
that  bottle  of  alcohol  the  old  man  gave  you  for 
varnishing  the  wheel  ?  I've  got  one  of  his  porous 
plasters  on  my  chest,  and  the  blooming  thing  has 
glued  itself  to  every  hair  on  my  body,  and  I  can't 
get  it  adrift" 

"  It's  in  the  right-hand  corner  of  the  boson's 
locker,"  said  the  mate,  with  a  grin.  "  But  go  easy, 
Garnett.  The  old  man  put  a  spoonful  of  tartar- 
emetic  into  the  stuff,  'for,'  says  he,  'tartar-emetic 
makes  the  varnish  have  a  more  enduring  effect 
against  the  weather.' ' 

"  Sink  him  for  a  scoundrel  !"  growled  Garnett,  his 
little  eyes  flashing  and  beard  bristling  with  rage. 
"It's  always  something  he's  doing  to  make  bad 
feeling  aboard  ship.  Why  should  he  suspect  a  man 
of  drinking  raw  spirit,  hey?" 

184 


A  Blunder 


"Why,  indeed,"  said  Gantline. 

And  Garnett  went  below  muttering  a  string  of 
fierce  oaths. 

At  six  o'clock  the  gale  had  increased,  and  the 
noise  of  the  bawling  men  struggling  with  the  fore- 
and  mizzentop-sails  awakened  the  skipper,  who, 
fearing  all  was  not  well,  hastily  made  his  toilet  again 
and  appeared  at  the  head  of  the  companion-way. 

"  How  is  it  now  ?"  he  asked  of  Gantline,  who 
stood  near  the  wheel. 

"  Gone  off  two  points,  and  there's  an  almighty  sea 
running.  I'm  shortening  her  down  fast  Whew  !" 

As  he  spoke  a  great  hill  of  water  full  forty  feet  high 
rolled  down  on  the  weather-beam.  The  ship  headed 
it  a  couple  of  points  and  sank  slowly  into  the  slanting 
trough.  Then  she  began  to  rise  to  it  The  comb- 
ing crest  struck  her  forward  of  the  main-rigging,  and 
with  a  roar  like  Niagara  crashed  over  the  top-gallant- 
rail.  It  hove  her  down  on  her  bearings  and  filled 
the  main-deck  waist-deep,  while  the  shock  made  the 
skipper  and  Gantline  clutch  for  support  The  next 
instant  Green  sprang  on  to  the  poop. 

"All  hands  there  !"  he  bawled.  "Get  that  fore- 
top-sail  on  the  yard  !" 

Garnett  came  struggling  on  deck,  muttering  some- 
thing about  being  afloat  in  a  diving-bell,  and  was 
almost  washed  off  his  feet  by  the  roaring  flood  in 
the  waist  In  a  few  moments  he  was  on  the  fore- 
yard  bellowing  out  orders  to  the  men  stowing  the 
topsail. 

The  uproar  and  cries  of  the  men  startled  the  two 
185 


The  Wind-jammers 


passengers,  Dr.  Davis  and  his  wife,  who  had  under- 
taken the  passage  at  a  physician's  advice.  The 
physician,  knowing  nothing  at  all  about  the  sea,  had 
unhesitatingly  recommended  a  sea-voyage  for  the 
Reverend  Dr.  Davis  as  a  certain  cure  for  the  nervous 
ailment  from  which  that  gentleman  suffered.  The 
strain  at  being  face  to  face  with  death  so  often  was 
doing  wonders  for  the  minister,  and  he  in  turn  was 
doing  what  he  could  for  the  crew.  All  except  Mr. 
Garnett  had  profited  much  by  his  presence  on  board, 
but  the  mate  stubbornly  held  out  against  any  form 
of  religion. 

"  Keep  the  main  on  her  as  long  as  it  will  hold  !" 
bawled  Green.  "  It  looks  as  if  we  will  catch  it 
sure."  Then,  catching  a  glimpse  of  Dr.  Davis' s  face 
at  the  companion-way,  he  added,  "I'll  be  hanged 
if  I  ever  overload  a  ship  again  and  run  such 
risk." 

The  minister  stepped  out  on  deck. 

"Good-morning,  doctor  ;  we  are  having  a  touch  of 
the  Cape  this  morning,"  cried  the  skipper. 

"So  it  seems  ;  is  the  Cape  in  sight?" 

"  No  ;  but  I  guess  you'll  see  it  again  before  we  get 
clear." 

"Mr.  Garnett  said  he  thought  we  would  make 
some  northing  to-day.  He  does  not  believe  in  so 
much  easterly  variation,  but  says  it  is  the  drift  that 
makes  it  appear  so.  It  seems  to  me  an  easy  thing  to 
decide." 

"  Garnett  be  hanged  !"  snorted  Green  in  disgust 
"  He  will  get  into  trouble  some  day  with  his  fool's 

186 


A  Blunder 


ideas.  Hello  !  there  goes  the  steward  with  the 
hash,"  and  the  skipper  dived  below,  where  he  was 
followed  by  his  passenger. 

Garnett  appeared  at  the  table,  but  Mrs.  Davis  kept 
her  bunk,  as  the  plunging  ship  made  it  difficult  to 
eat  with  comfort.  No  one  spoke  during  the  meal, 
as  the  crashing  noise  from  the  straining  bulkheads 
drowned  all  sounds  save  the  roar  of  the  elements  on 
deck. 

Garnett  stopped  in  the  alley-way  to  light  his  pipe 
and  get  a  few  whiffs  before  relieving  Gantline.  Then 
he  made  his  way  to  the  poop  and  stood  close  to  the 
mizzen,  trying  to  get  shelter  from  the  wind  and  spray, 
while  Gantline  went  below. 

Dr.  Davis  came  on  deck  and  found  the  second 
officer  trying  to  smoke,  so  he  joined  him. 

"  It's  harder  to  be  mate  with  a  man  like  Green 
than  anything  I've  tackled,"  said  he.  "  I've  been 
to  a  few  places  and  seen  a  few  men  in  my  day,  but 
most  of  them  would  reason  things  out.  There's  no 
reason  in  him." 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Dr.  Davis. 

"  It's  all  about  variation  now.  He's  always  trying 
to  work  off  new-fangled  notions  on  me.  When  I 
first  began  coming  around  this  way  the  drift  was 
good  enough  to  figure  by." 

"But  hasn't  it  been  proved?" 

"  Proved  nothing.  How's  a  man  going  to  prove 
he's  steering  north  when  he's  heading  nor' west  in  a 
three-knot  drift  with  nothing  to  get  a  bearing  on? 
I'll  allow  there's  some  variation  in  a  compass,  but 

187 


The  Wind-jammers 


nothing  like  that.  Besides,  he  does  other  unreason- 
able things.  There's  no  reason  in  him." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  it  is  hard  to  get  along  with  un- 
reasonable people,"  said  the  minister;  "but  there 
are  some  things  we  know  are  true  without  being 
able  to  reason  about  them.  For  instance " 

"  No,  sir,"  interrupted  Garnett.  "  There  ain't 
anything  we  know  about  anything  unless  we  can 
reason  it  out.  You  have  your  ideas  and  I  have 
mine  ;  that's  all  there  is  to  it" 

"Fore-staysail!"  bawled  the  skipper  from  the 
wheel,  and  that  piece  of  canvas  was  run  up,  quickly 
followed  by  the  trysail  on  the  spanker-boom.  Dr. 
Davis,  left  alone,  started  aft.  He  went  safely  along 
until  he  reached  the  middle  of  the  poop,  when  a 
heavy  sea  struck  the  vessel  and  made  her  heel 
quickly  to  leeward.  The  minister  tried  to  seize  the 
rail,  but  missed  it,  and  the  next  instant  fell  headlong 
into  the  seething  water  alongside. 

Garnett  was  not  ten  feet  distant  working  at  the 
trysail,  and  without  a  moment's  hesitation  he  seized 
a  downhaul  and  plunged  overboard  with  the  line 
about  him. 

The  passenger  arose  with  a  look  of  peaceful  res- 
ignation on  his  face  which  contrasted  strongly  with 
the  old  mate's  fierce  expression  of  determination. 
As  the  vessel  was  making  no  headway  against  the 
sea  it  was  less  difficult  than  it  appeared  to  seize  the 
drowning  man  and  give  the  signal  to  haul  away. 

In  another  minute  Garnett  was  on  deck  again 
with  Dr.  Davis,  neither  of  them  much  the  worse  for 

188 


A  Blunder 


their  bath.  The  cold,  however,  made  it  necessary 
for  them  to  change  their  clothes. 

The  gale  held  on  all  day,  but  nothing  unusual 
occurred.  At  eight  bells  that  evening  Dr.  Davis 
had  recovered  sufficiently  to  again  venture  on  deck. 
It  was  Gantline's  dog-watch,  but  as  there  was  as 
much  light  as  there  had  been  during  the  day,  Dr. 
Davis  kept  him  company. 

"  Mr.  Garnett  is  a  very  hard  man  to  convince 
when  he  has  once  set  his  mind  against  a  thing," 
said  the  minister.  "There's  no  way  of  showing  him 
he  is  wrong  when  he  has  made  a  mistake." 

"That's  true  enough,  especially  if  you  try  to 
rough  him.  He's  mad  to-day  because  the  skipper 
found  fault  with  his  swearing  at  the  men." 

"He  does  swear  most  horribly,"  said  Dr.  Davis. 

"It's  nothing  to  what  he  used  to.  He  don't 
realize  he  does  it  at  all  now." 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?" 

"Why,  he  used  to  be  a  most  blasphemous  old 
cuss.  One  day  he  went  ashore  at  Tinian,  and  the 
missionary  there  asked  him  to  dinner.  When  he 
asked  Garnett  what  he  would  have  he  sung  out, 
'  Gimme  a  bowl  of  blood,  ye  tough  old  ram  of  the 
Lord,'  just  to  shock  the  good  man.  The  missionary 
rose  and  ordered  him  out  of  the  house,  but  Garnett 
wouldn't  go,  so  he  struck  him  over  the  head  with  a 
dish  of  fried  plantains,  he  was  that  mad.  Garnett 
was  two  days  getting  over  the  stroke,  for  he  had 
been  stove  down  before  by  a  handspike  in  the 
hands  of  a  drunken  sailor.  He  always  thought  the 

189 


The  Wind-jammers 


good  man  had  called  a  curse  down  upon  him,  and 
since  then  he's  been  slow  at  figures." 

"  I  see,"  said  Dr.  Davis. 

"Yes,  it's  a  fact,  you've  got  to  show  a  thing 
pretty  plain  to  Garnett  before  he  believes  it  As  to 
that  missionary,  he  wasn't  overbright  at  converting 
savages." 

"What  do  you  mean?  That  he  wasn't  strong 
enough  physically?" 

"  No,  no,  love  ye,  no  ;  that  missionary  could  take 
care  of  himself  and  not  half  try.  What  I  mean  is 
downright  religious  and  Christian  argument.  There 
was  one  chief  he  never  could  convert  The  fellow 
had  an  idol,  the  most  uncanny  thing  I  ever  saw ; 
sort  of  half  bird,  half  beast,  part  fish,  and  having  a 
strain  of  dragon.  He  used  to  pray  to  the  thing, 
although  he  could  speak  English  well  enough  and 
had  seen  plenty  of  white  men.  The  missionary 
told  him  it  was  wrong  to  worship  anything  in  an 
image  of  things  in  the  heavens  above,  the  earth 
beneath,  or  waters  under  the  earth,  and  the  chief 
took  it  all  kindly.  The  good  man  finally  gave  him 
up,  but  the  chief  never  could  tell  why.  Once  he 
offered  to  bet  the  missionary  two  wives  against  a 
bottle  of  rum  that  there  wasn't  anything  in  the 
heavens  above  or  earth  beneath  that  resembled  the 
strange  thing  in  any  way ;  and  as  the  good  man 
couldn't  prove  it,  the  matter  ended." 

The  gale  increased  as  the  night  wore  on,  and  the 
vessel  lay  to  on  the  port  tack  and  drifted  off  with 
her  head  pointing  northwest  by  north,  but  she  was 

190 


A  Blunder 


to  the  westward  of  the  Ramirez.  It  was  Garnett's 
watch  and  the  skipper  was  below.  The  ship  was 
driving  off  to  leeward,  and  the  skipper  determined 
to  wear  ship  and  stand  to  the  southward  again  if 
she  was  headed  off  any  farther.  Garnett  had  orders 
to  report  any  change  which  might  take  place. 

The  old  mate  had  a  chart  in  his  room  with  the 
variation  marked  on  it  above  the  fiftieth  parallel, 
some  ten  degrees  less  than  where  he  now  was. 
But  even  this  variation  appeared  excessive  to  him, 
and,  as  the  skipper  told  him  to  report  if  the  vessel's 
head  fell  off  to  the  eastward  of  north,  he  held  on. 
Figuring  on  a  two-knot  drift,  he  would  not  be  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  rocks  during  his  watch  even  if 
she  headed  as  far  as  north  by  west,  for  at  noon  she 
had  made  a  good  westing. 

The  ship's  head  was  to  the  eastward  at  four  bells, 
but,  as  there  was  really  over  twenty  degrees'  variation, 
Garnett  held  on  and  made  sail  whenever  he  could. 
Long  before  his  watch  was  out  the  vessel  had  been 
making  little  leeway  and  reaching  heavily  along 
under  lower  topsails.  At  seven  bells  the  wind 
hauled  again  to  the  southward  and  came  harder 
than  ever,  carrying  the  foretop-sail  out  of  the  bolt- 
ropes. 

The  noise  of  bawling  men  brought  the  skipper 
on  deck,  and  he  had  the  mizzentop-sail  rolled  up 
and  the  fore-staysail  ready  for  waring  ship.  While 
he  stood  on  the  poop  he  looked  to  leeward.  The 
mist  seemed  to  break  into  rifts  in  the  dull  light 
of  the  early  morning,  and  through  one  he  saw  an 

191 


The  Wind-jammers 


object  that  made  him  catch  his  breath.  In  an  in- 
stant the  flying  spume  closed  in  again  and  all  was 
blank. 

Garnett  came  aft,  and,  although  it  was  cold,  he 
took  off  his  sou'wester  and  mopped  the  top  of  his 
bald  head  as  he  glanced  at  the  skipper.  The  old 
man  stood  petrified  gazing  into  the  blank  to  leeward. 
Then  he  turned  on  the  mate  with  a  savage  glare  in  his 
eye.  "  Get  all  hands  on  that  fore-staysail,  quick  !" 
he  roared,  and  Garnett  went  plunging  forward,  the 
skipper's  voice  following  him  and  rising  almost  to  a 
shriek, — "  Loose  the  jib  and  foresail !"  Then  turn- 
ing, he  dashed  for  the  wheel  and  rolled  it  hard  up. 
Back  again  on  the  poop  he  roared  to  Gantline,  who 
came  plunging  out  on  the  main-deck  to  loose  the 
foretop-sail. 

The  men  started  to  obey  orders  and  sprang  to  the 
halyards  and  braces,  looking  over  their  shoulders  to 
leeward  at  each  roll  of  the  ship  to  find  out  the  cause 
of  the  excitement. 

Suddenly  the  flying  spume  broke  again,  and  there, 
dead  under  the  lee,  lay  the  outer  rocks  of  the  Rami- 
rez not  a  mile  distant.  Then  some  of  the  crew  be- 
came panic-stricken,  and  it  was  all  the  mates  could 
do  to  keep  them  in  hand. 

"There's  no  land  there  !"  roared  Garnett  "  H'ist 
away  the  fore-staysail." 

Then  the  ship's  head  paid  off,  while  the  staysail 
tore  to  ribbons  under  the  pressure.  The  topsail  was 
loosened,  and  it  thundered  away  to  bits,  almost 
taking  the  topmast  with  it.  The  jib  followed  suit, 

192 


A  Blunder 


but  together  they  lasted  long  enough  to  get  her  head 
off  before  the  wind.  Then  Garnett,  casting  off  the 
weather-clew  of  the  reefed  foresail,  hauled  it  down 
far  enough  to  keep  the  wind  under  it,  and  away  they 
went  In  a  few  moments  her  head  swung  to  on  the 
starboard  tack,  and  as  they  hauled  the  wind  a  deep 
thunderous  sound  rose  above  the  gale.  The  trusty 
maintop-sail  was  trimmed  hard  on  the  backstays,  and 
all  hands  waited  with  eyes  straining  to  leeward. 

"Will  she  go  clear?"  asked  Dr.  Davis,  calmly,  as 
he  stood  by  the  skipper's  side  on  the  poop.  But 
Green's  teeth  were  shut  tight,  and  the  muscles  of 
his  straining  face  were  as  taut  as  the  clews  of  the 
storm-topsail.  Nearer  and  nearer  sounded  that  dull, 
booming  thunder,  and  now,  right  under  her  lee, 
they  could  see  the  great  white  rush  of  those  high- 
rolling  seas  that  tore  over  the  ledges  and  crashed 
into  a  world  of  smother  that  hid  eveiything  beyond 
in  a  thick  haze. 

"  She'll  go  clear,"  said  Garnett,  and  he  took  out 
his  handkerchief  and  mopped  the  dent  in  his  bald 
head. 

"But  it's  a  d — d  close  shave,"  answered  Gant- 
line. 

As  he  spoke  a  great  rolling  sea  rose  on  the 
weather-quarter,  lifting  full  forty  feet  from  trough 
to  crest  as  it  began  its  shoreward  rush.  On  and 
on  it  rolled  in  majestic  grandeur,  a  gigantic,  white- 
topped  mass,  until  it  vanished  into  the  thick  haze  of 
flying  spray,  but  still  bearing  more  and  more  to  the 
northward.  They  went  clear. 
13  193 


The  Wind-jammers 


Dr.  Davis  was  not  present  at  a  little  conversation 
held  between  Mr.  Garnett  and  the  skipper  some 
minutes  later,  but  during  the  mate's  next  watch  on 
deck  he  found  a  chance  to  speak  to  him.  He  saw 
him  standing  under  the  mizzen  watching  the  main- 
top-sail, and  he  crowded  close  into  the  mast,  wiping 
his  spectacles. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  it  now?"  he 
asked. 

"Nothing,"  growled  Garnett,  "except  I  made  a 
mistake  ;  and  if  I'd  held  on  ten  minutes  there' d  have 
been  thirty  more  men  gone  to  a  lower  latitude,  that's 
all." 

"But  think  of  the  responsibility.  How  would 
you  have  felt  with  the  lives  of  thirty  men  on 
your  conscience  ?  Don't  you  see,  we  have  to  accept 
some  truths  without  stopping  to  reason  them  out 
There  may  be  no  reason  for  that  variation,  but  you 
see  it  exists,  after  all.  It  is  the  same  way  in  regard 
to  the  duty  we  owe  our  Maker,  and  I  am  afraid  you 
will  acknowledge  it  only  after  you  have  'held  on 
too  long,'  as  you  admit  in  this  case.  As  for  a  man 
going  to  a  lower  latitude,  as  you  call  it,  there  is 
no  such  place.  A  man's  hell  is  his  own  conscience." 

Garnett  remained  silent  for  some  minutes  watch- 
ing the  clews  of  the  maintop-sail,  and  appeared  to  be 
absorbed  in  deep  thought. 

"Maybe  you're  right  about  there  not  being  any 
hell  below,  and  maybe  you're  not,"  he  finally  said. 
"  I  hope  you  are  right ;  but  I've  had  some  experi- 
ence in  my  day,  and  had  all  kinds  of  luck,  both 


A  Blunder 


good  and  bad.  It  don't  seem  probable  I'd  strike  it 
as  rich  as  that.  No,  sir,  it  ain't  probable ;  though, 
of  course,  it's  possible." 

And  Dr.  Davis  left  him  standing  there  with  a 
strange,  hopeful  gleam  in  his  eyes. 


TO  CLIPPERTON  REEF 

THIS  rather  singular  expedition  left  San 
Francisco  under  the  direct  charge  of  Pro- 
fessor Frisbow,  of  the  West  Coast  Museum. 
While  an  entirely  private  affair,  its  object  was  to 
secure  specimens  of  several  of  the  almost  extinct 
species  of  pelagic  fish. 

The  vessel  used  for  the  purpose  was  a  small  seal- 
ing schooner  of  about  seventy-five  tons,  and  the 
crew,  including  the  captain  and  mate,  consisted  of 
five  able-bodied  men.  The  rest  of  the  party  were 
the  professor  and  myself. 

As  we  were  both  good  sailors,  the  size  of  our 
vessel  did  not  inconvenience  us,  so  that,  after  fitting 
up  two  state-rooms  in  the  cabin,  we  found,  although 
a  little  crowded,  we  were  as  snug  "  as  weevils  in  a 
biscuit" 

The  wind  was  blowing  almost  a  gale  when  we 
towed  out  between  the  heads  of  the  bay,  and  as  it 
came  from  the  northwest,  a  stout  pea-coat  was  far 
from  uncomfortable  while  walking  the  narrow  limits 
of  the  quarter-deck. 

The  setting  sun  shone  red  on  the  rolling  hill-side 
of  North  Head,  where  herds  of  cattle  cropped  the 
short  grass  of  the  highlands.  In  the  clear  atmos- 
phere small  objects  were  visible  with  strange  dis- 
tinctness. To  the  southward  the  jets  of  spray 

shooting  skyward  told  p/amly  of  the  heavy  sea  that 

196 


To  Clipperton  Reef 


fell  upon  the  Seal  Rocks.  Our  skipper  shook  out 
the  double  reef  he  had  in  the  mainsail  and  deter- 
mined to  drive  his  vessel  off  shore  as  far  as  possi- 
ble while  the  fair  wind  held. 

It  was  nearly  dark  before  the  tug  gave  a  short 
whistle  for  the  men  forward  to  cast  off  the  tow-line, 
and  as  the  last  light  on  the  western  horizon  faded 
into  shadow  the  head-sheets  were  flattened  and  we 
stood  away  to  the  southwest 

Clipperton  Isle  or  Reef  lies  10°  17' north  latitude 
and  109°  10'  west  longitude.  The  distance  on  a 
straight  course  being  but  little  over  fifteen  hundred 
miles  from  our  starting-point,  but  as  the  northeast 
trade  is  very  light  and  unsteady  along  the  coast  of 
the  continent,  we  deemed  it  wiser  to  take  the  regu- 
lar sailing  route  to  the  southward  and  make  our 
easting  afterwards. 

The  first  twenty-four  hours  out  were  uncomfort- 
able enough,  as  the  heavy  sea  caught  us  fair  on  the 
starboard  beam  and  made  the  stanch  little  vessel 
roll  horribly.  Gradually,  however,  the  wind  hauled 
more  to  the  northward  and  we  made  better  weather 
of  it.  Our  Bliss  log  registered  two  hundred  and 
fifty-four  miles  for  the  first  day's  run,  and  on  the 
fourth  day  out  we  picked  up  the  trade  in  26°  north 
latitude  and  headed  away  due  south. 

Our  reason  for  selecting  this  almost  unknown 
spot  for  our  field  of  operations  was  owing,  prin- 
cipally, to  the  reports  of  the  captains  of  two 
whaling  ships  who  had  been  consulted  in  regard 
to  our  object,  and  also,  I  fear,  to  the  keen  desire 

197 


The  Wind-jammers 


of  my  companion,  the  professor,  to  explore  this 
curious  island. 

Fish  of  several  varieties  which  we  desired  to  pro- 
cure abounded  along  the  southern  coast  of  Califor- 
nia, and  the  California  Gulf  swarmed  with  almost 
every  species  of  shark  except  the  one  we  wished 
for.  We  had  finally  decided,  however,  to  stick  to 
deep  water,  and  had  procured  the  schooner  for  a 
small  amount  and  the  services  of  Captain  Brown,  an 
old  whaleman,  who  had  been  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
island  on  several  voyages. 

During  the  first  week  out  we  had  an  opportunity 
to  get  acquainted  with  our  skipper,  who  with  his 
mate  occupied  the  starboard  side  of  the  after-cabin. 

Old  Captain  Brown  was  a  typical  whaling  skipper 
and  as  crusty  an  old  sailor  as  one  could  wish  to  sail 
with.  He  had  acquired  the  true  sailor  habit  of 
finding  fault  with  everything,  and  divided  his  time 
between  making  sarcastic  personal  remarks  to  the 
mate  and  cursing  the  men. 

As  for  Garnett,  the  mate,  I  had  sailed  before  in 
his  company  and  knew  him  thoroughly.  He  had 
been  nearly  everything  that  was  bad,  and  had  been 
in  every  part  of  the  world.  He  was  fifty-five  and 
over,  but  he  was  one  of  the  roughest  and  toughest 
specimens  of  humanity,  both  morally  and  physically, 
I  had  ever  seen.  His  hairy  chest  bore  a  mark  where 
a  bullet  had  passed  through,  the  calf  of  his  right 
leg  was  twisted  where  a  bayonet  had  penetrated,  for 
he  had  been  a  soldier,  and  the  index-finger  of  his 
left  hand  was  missing.  Besides  these  trifles  he  had 

198 


To  Clipperton  Reef 


a  large  dent,  nearly  half  an  inch  deep,  on  the  top 
of  his  bald  head,  where  a  sailor  had  "  stove  him 
down"  with  a  handspike.  This  was  the  only  injury 
he  had  received  that  had  ever  given  him  much 
trouble,  and  sometimes  the  pain  in  his  head  affected 
his  eyesight. 

In  spite  of  his  ugly  record  and  many  drawbacks 
I  knew  him  to  be  the  best  sailor  that  ever  handled 
canvas  and  worth  a  whole  ship's  company  in  an 
emergency.  Therefore  we  let  the  skipper  rate  him, 
and  while  he  confined  himself  to  sarcasm  and  inso- 
lence I  believed  Garnett  would  not  turn  rusty. 

It  was  not  long  before  Captain  Brown  found  out  the 
mate's  defect  in  vision,  and  at  about  the  same  time 
he  was  convinced  that  he  was  also  the  greatest  liar 
afloat.  After  this  he  used  to  amuse  us  by  calling  out 
"  Ship  ahoy  !"  and  gazing  steadfastly  at  a  part  of  the 
blank  horizon.  Then,  if  Garnett  was  near,  he  would 
discuss  the  ship  in  detail,  and  the  mate  would  swear 
positively,  with  great  emphasis,  "  My  God !  but 
that's  the  old  Moose,"  or  some  other  vessel  he  had 
sailed  in ;  and  then  the  skipper  would  suddenly 
break  off  and  begin  to  walk  fore  and  aft  with  rapid 
and  excited  strides.  When  he  would  reach  the 
vicinity  of  Garnett  he  would  look  up  at  the  main- 
top-sail and  wish  to  know,  in  a  loud  voice,  why  in 
the  name  of  Ananias  all  the  liars  were  not  struck 
dead.  Then  he  would  storm  and  swear  at  all  people 
who  ever  told  the  truth,  and  thank  heaven  he  never 
told  the  truth  when  he  could  possibly  help  it ;  all  of 
which  noise  had  about  as  much  effect  on  Garnett  as 

199 


The  Wind-jammers 


if  he  had  been  pouring  water  gently  into  the  dent 
in  his  oily  bald  head. 

"  Aren't  you  afraid  to  curse  and  call  on  the  Lord 
so  often?"  I  asked,  during  one  of  his  fits. 

"  'Fraid  o'  nothin'.  Do  you  suppose  the  Lord 
minds  my  cursing  at  such  a  fellow  as  Garnett  ? 
What  difference  does  it  make,  anyhow?  The  Lord 
never  yet  answered  either  prayer  or  curse  of  mine." 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  "but  Garnett  might,  and 
then " 

"  He  might,  might  he  ?  Now,  by  all  thunder,  I 
guess  not.  He  might  as  well  git  it  through  his 
head  that  if  there's  any  swearing  to  be  done  I'll  do 

it.     Yes,  sir,  I'll  do  it,  s'help  me "     And  here 

he  broke  off  into  a  string  of  such  expressive  pro- 
fanity, relating  to  gods,  devils,  and  men,  that  Fris- 
bow  came  up  from  below  to  listen. 

On  the  morning  of  the  tenth  day  out  we  crossed 
the  twelfth  parallel,  and  at  noon  we  hauled  our  wind 
and  headed  straight  for  the  island  as  located  by  Sir 
Edward  Belcher. 

On  the  fifteenth  day  the  wind  left  us  in  10°  43' 
north  latitude  and  about  113°  west  longitude,  or 
nearly  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  westward  of  the 
reef.  Here  we  encountered  the  most  trying  part 
of  the  whole  voyage  out  For  two  days  the  log 
registered  less  than  a  ten-mile  run,  and  the  four 
following  less  than  twenty. 

Finally,  after  ten  days  of  drifting,  we  sighted  the 
island,  one  bright  morning,  almost  directly  over  our 
knight-heads.  As  the  wind  was  light,  our  skipper 


To  Clipperton  Reef 


feared  to  approach  within  less  than  a  mile  of  the 
shore,  as  there  was  danger  of  drifting  into  the 
breakers.  There  were  hundreds  of  fathoms  of 
water  close  in  near  the  beach,  and  it  was  useless  tc 
think  of  anchoring,  so  we  hove  the  vessel  to  about 
a  mile  to  leeward. 

After  setting  the  shark  line  the  boat  was  put 
overboard,  and  the  mate  and  one  man  proceeded 
to  pull  us  to  the  shore. 

On  arriving  close  to  the  island  the  surf  was  found 
to  be  too  heavy  to  make  a  safe  landing,  and  we 
were  compelled  to  pull  around  to  the  entrance  of 
the  lagoon  on  the  south  side.  We  landed  with 
little  difficulty  inside  the  entrance,  and,  securing  the 
boat,  proceeded  to  explore  the  reef. 

Lying  low  in  the  water,  it  presented  a  peculiar 
and,  at  the  same  time,  beautiful  appearance.  No 
part  of  it  was  over  ten  feet  above  the  sea,  and  it  lay 
shaped  into  a  most  perfect  oval.  On  the  outside 
of  the  circle  the  beach  was  of  snow-white  coral, 
which,  as  it  sloped  away  seaward  on  the  north  side, 
reflected  various  shades  of  green  and  blue  through 
the  clear  water. 

On  the  south  side  the  sea  had  just  the  faintest 
milky  color,  showing  that  there  was  a  slight  set  to 
the  southward. 

We  devoted  the  whole  day  to  exploring  the  reef, 
and  only  returned  on  board  when  darkness  made 
the  schooner  almost  invisible. 

As  we  passed  through  the  entrance  we  made 
soundings,  and  found  a  depth  of  five  or  six  fathoms 

201 


The  Wind-jammers 


nearly  all  the  way  across,  or  enough  water  for  quite 
a  large  vessel  to  pass  through.  On  getting  aboard 
we  found  that  the  skipper  had  caught  several  de- 
sirable specimens  for  our  collection  and  had  sighted 
a  small  sperm-whale  about  a  half  a  mile  to  wind- 
ward just  before  dark.  This  had  stirred  his  blood, 
and  he  had  been  cursing  his  luck  heartily  at  our 
staying  ashore  in  the  boat  when  we  might  be  after 
big  game,  for  we  had  several  irons  and  a  few  tubs 
of  line  on  board  and  also  a  bomb-gun. 

After  supper  we  were  so  worked  up  by  listening 
to  Captain  Brown's  whaling  yarns  that  we  decided 
to  have  a  try  at  the  first  whale  sighted.  At  daylight 
the  next  morning  Garnett  sung  out  to  the  skipper 
that  there  was  something  off  the  weather-beam. 
We  turned  out  and  found  the  sea  just  ruffled  by 
a  light  air  and  the  sun  shining  fiercely  out  of  a 
cloudless  sky.  On  searching  the  horizon  we  found 
nothing  visible  except  the  reef,  which  lay  some 
three  miles  to  the  northward. 

All  of  a  sudden  we  noticed  a  blur  of  white  to 
the  westward,  and  Frisbow  immediately  went  below 
for  the  glasses.  Garnett  sung  out  again  from  for- 
ward and  pointed  at  the  blur,  then,  thinking  we 
could  not  see  anything,  he  came  aft  to  where  we 
stood. 

By  this  time  both  the  skipper  and  Frisbow  had 
their  glasses,  and  were  just  in  the  act  of  focussing 
them  upon  the  object  when  it  suddenly  vanished. 

Captain  Brown  began  to  mutter  something  about 
people  who  saw  so  many  strange  things,  and  Garnett 

202 


To  Clipperton  Reef 


removed  his  cap  to  wipe  the  perspiration  from  the 
dent  in  his  head. 

"What  kind  of  vessel  can  it  be?"  asked  Frisbow. 

"  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  know,"  I  answered. 

"Might  be  the  Flying  Dutchman,"  suggested 
Garnett,  with  his  usual  gravity. 

This  was  too  much  for  the  skipper,  and  he  warned 
Garnett  that  such  jokes  were  out  of  place  among 
intelligent  men  and  liable  to  be  followed  by  disas- 
trous consequences,  and  then  added  that  "  Most 
people  knew  a  whale  when  they  saw  it."  Suddenly 
the  blur  appeared  again.  This  time  it  lasted  for 
over  a  minute.  It  was  not  a  "  blow,"  and  I  was 
just  about  to  ask  the  skipper  what  he  made  it  out 
to  be  when  he  quickly  shoved  his  glass  into  my 
hand  and  told  me  to  "look  quick." 

I  did  so,  and  saw  that  the  blur  was  a  great  cloud 
of  spray  and  foam  thrown  up  from  the  sea.  In- 
stantly a  large  gray  object  rose  from  the  churned 
water,  then  fell  again  in  the  thick  of  it,  and  I  recog- 
nized the  form  of  a  huge  thresher-shark.  He  ap- 
peared to  land  heavily  upon  the  whale,  for  that 
animal,  after  lashing  the  sea  furiously,  sounded,  and 
presently  the  disturbance  subsided. 

After  breakfast  we  saw  a  blow  half  a  mile  to 
windward,  and  the  skipper  said  it  was  the  same 
whale  we  had  noticed  in  the  early  morning. 

We  didn't  stop  to  argue  the  question,  but  hauled 
the  whale-boat,  that  was  towing  astern,  alongside 
and  made  haste  to  get  the  gear  into  her. 

Leaving  the  schooner  in  charge  of  the  three  men, 
203 


The  Wind-jammers 


all  of  whom  were  picked  sailors,  the  rest  of  us 
manned  the  boat  and  started  out.  Captain  Brown 
took  his  place  in  the  bow  as  harpooner  and  boat- 
steerer,  while  Garnett  and  the  professor  pulled  bow 
and  stroke  oars  respectively,  leaving  me  to  handle 
the  steering  oar. 

The  sea  was  almost  like  glass,  and  under  the 
skipper's  direction  we  rapidly  approached  our  game. 
My  heart  beat  so  with  excitement  that  it  seemed  to 
choke  me  as  we  silently  drew  head  on  to  the  mon- 
ster, the  skipper  motioning  with  his  hand  which  way 
he  wanted  me  to  steer.  Then  we  shipped  the  oars 
carefully  and  took  out  the  paddles  for  a  close  throw. 
All  of  a  sudden  he  raised  the  iron  and  hurled  it  at 
the  black  mass  ahead.  Garnett  and  Frisbow  backed 
water  as  hard  as  they  could,  and  in  an  instant  there 
was  a  tremendous  splash  as  the  animal  fluked  and 
sounded.  The  skipper  stood  by  the  line,  while  the 
professor  took  up  the  bomb-gun,  determined  to 
have  the  honor  of  shooting  the  beast 

The  whale  didn't  go  down  far  or  stay  long  below 
the  surface,  but  when  he  did  come  up  he  came  with 
a  rush  that  took  him  clear  of  the  water  and  almost 
aboard  of  us.  The  surging  splash  he  made  as  he 
fell  alongside  nearly  swamped  us  with  the  sea  and 
sent  Frisbow  over  the  thwart  into  the  bottom  of 
the  boat,  while  the  lance  came  near  lodging  in 
Garnett' s  neck  as  the  gun  exploded  in  the  air. 

Old  Captain  Brown  stormed  and  swore,  and,  call- 
ing Garnett  to  tend  the  line,  he  picked  up  the  gun 
and  began  loading  it  himself  as  I  passed  him  a 

204 


To  Clipperton  Reef 


charge,  while  Frisbow  scrambled  to  his  feet  and 
asked  if  he  had  "killed  him." 

A  hoarse  chuckle  from  Garnett  warned  him  of  his 
mistake,  but  before  any  one  could  answer  the  skipper 
passed  him  the  gun  again  and  sprang  forward  to  the 
line.  I  looked  over  the  side,  and  suddenly  noticed 
a  dark  spot  in  the  clear  depths  directly  beneath 
us  growing  rapidly  larger.  Putting  forth  all  my 
strength,  I  swung  on  the  steering  oar  to  slue  the 
boat  to  one  side,  and  it  was  just  by  good  luck  I 
managed  to  do  so  in  time.  I  heard  an  exclamation 
from  the  skipper,  and  saw  Frisbow  standing  with  the 
gun  ready,  when,  without  an  instant's  warning,  the 
great  bulk  of  the  whale  rose  alongside  close  enough 
to  touch.  The  professor  fired  with  the  muzzle  not 
two  feet  from  the  animal's  body,  which,  as  it  fell 
alongside,  half  filled  the  boat  with  water. 

Instead  of  sounding  again  the  whale  swam  slowly 
away,  towing  us  after  it.  Captain  Brown  started  to 
load  the  gun,  and  had  just  put  in  the  powder  charge 
when  the  whale  slowed  up  and  began  blowing  rapid 
jets  of  crimson  spray. 

"We've  got  him  now,"  he  said,  and  laid  down 
the  gun  to  wait  for  the  end. 

In  about  ten  minutes  the  animal  was  motionless 
upon  the  water,  and  after  waiting  a  little  longer  we 
hauled  alongside.  He  was  a  small  sperm-whale, 
not  over  thirty  feet  in  length,  with  about  enough 
blubber  to  make  a  "twenty-barrel,"  as  he  was 
termed  by  the  skipper.  We  made  a  line  fast  to 
and  then  sat  and  waited  for  the  schooner,  that 


The  Wind-jammers 


was  creeping  slowly  up  from  leeward  with  the  light 
breeze.  The  heat  was  terrific  as  we  sat  there  in  the 
open  boat,  and  it  was  long  past  noon  before  the 
schooner  picked  us  up. 

After  dinner  Frisbow,  myself,  and  two  men  manned 
the  boat  to  tow  the  whale  ashore.  We  worked  the 
schooner  in  as  close  as  possible  to  the  entrance  of 
the  lagoon,  and  then  we  had  to  work  into  the  lagoon 
in  the  small  boat  with  a  white-ash  breeze.  We 
finally  landed  our  prize  inside  the  entrance,  and 
Frisbow  turned  to  work  at  once  to  get  off  the  skin. 
This  appeared  to  be  a  useless  object,  but  as  he  was 
bent  upon  it  there  was  nothing  else  to  do. 

During  the  whole  of  the  following  week  he  was 
ashore  nearly  all  the  time  with  one  or  two  men,  and 
sometimes,  when  the  wind  was  light  and  we  drifted 
well  off,  it  was  nearly  midnight  before  he  would  get 
aboard.  It  was  while  this  work  was  progressing 
that  the  incident  occurred  which  caused  all  our 
troubles. 

Frisbow  and  Garnett  had  both  tried  to  persuade 
Captain  Brown  that  it  was  the  best  and  safest  place 
for  the  schooner  inside  the  lagoon,  as  there  was 
plenty  of  water  and  quite  smooth  anchorage.  The 
skipper,  like  a  true  deep-water  sailor,  dreaded  the 
proximity  of  the  beach  even  worse  than  he  did 
fresh  water  on  his  skin,  and  he  was  several  times 
made  furious  at  the  idea  of  putting  his  vessel  inside 
the  lagoon. 

One  day  after  Garnett  and  Frisbow  had  gone 
ashore,  where  they  had  been  hard  at  work  at  the 

206 


To  Clipperton  Reef 


whale,  I  told  the  skipper  that  I  would  look  out  for 
the  vessel,  and  he  went  below  and  turned  in. 

The  two  men  left  on  board  were  idling  about  the 
galley.  One  of  them,  the  one  who  acted  as  cook, 
sat  in  the  doorway  and  worked  a  pan  of  "duff" 
which  he  held  between  his  knees. 

The  schooner  had  her  mainsail  set  and  hauled 
flat  aft,  while  her  jib  was  drawn  to  windward,  thus 
heaving  her  to  in  the  light  air  that  barely  ruffled  the 
surface  of  the  ocean.  There  was  not  a  cloud  in  the 
sky,  and  only  a  dull  haze  tempered  the  fierce  heat 
of  the  sun. 

I  had  the  wheel  lashed  hard  down  and  lay  at  full 
length  on  the  quarter,  trying  to  keep  in  the  shadow 
of  the  mainsail.  I  smoked  a  cigar  and  gazed  at  the 
eddies  that  drifted  from  the  vessel's  side  to  wind- 
ward. 

After  about  an  hour,  when  I  had  smoked  my  cigar 
down  to  a  stump,  I  was  aware  that  the  wind  had 
died  out  entirely  and  that  it  was  oppressively  hot  on 
deck.  I  lounged  aft  and  leaned  over  the  rail  and 
tried  to  see  if  I  could  distinguish  anything  moving 
on  the  island,  but  could  not,  and  the  distant  hum  of 
the  surf  was  the  only  sound  that  broke  the  painful 
stillness. 

Suddenly  the  hum  of  the  surf  seemed  to  grow 
louder.  I  turned  to  look  to  the  westward,  and  in  an 
instant  saw  the  ocean  whipped  to  foam  along  the 
horizon. 

"  All  hands !"  I  yelled,  and  sprang  to  the  peak 
halyards. 

207 


The  Wind-jammers 


I  let  them  go  by  the  run,  and  had  just  cast  off  the 
throat  when  with  a  rush  the  white  squall  struck  us 
just  forward  of  the  weather-beam.  One  of  the  men 
let  go  the  jib  halyard  and  tugged  at  the  downhaul 
and  managed  to  get  the  sail  half  down  before  the 
full  weight  of  the  wind  struck  us.  The  mainsail, 
hanging  half  way  down  the  mast,  thundered  away 
at  a  great  rate  until  it  split  from  head  to  leach, 
while  the  little  schooner  lay  on  her  beam  ends, 
letting  the  water  pour  in  a  torrent  down  the  open 
companion-way. 

In  less  than  five  minutes  it  was  all  over.  The 
wind  slacked  up  as  suddenly  as  it  began,  and  the 
vessel  slowly  righted.  Captain  Brown  clambered  on 
deck  half  drowned  from  the  flooded  cabin  and  helped 
to  get  in  what  was  left  of  the  mainsail.  We  got  all 
the  canvas  in,  but  the  sea  was  as  calm  as  before, 
except  for  the  swell  stirred  up,  and  there  was  not 
enough  wind  to  fill  a  topsail. 

"White  squall,  eh?"  inquired  the  skipper  as  soon 
as  we  had  the  sails  secured. 

"  It  was  some  kind  of  a  squall,"  I  said  ;  "  but 
there  was  no  warning  whatever  of  its  coming." 

"There  never  is,"  he  answered,  with  a  sickly  grin. 
"  I  wonder  how  much  water  we've  got  into  us.  If 
it  had  held  on  five  minutes  longer  we'd  have  passed 
in  our  papers,  sure ;  and,  as  it  was,  I  am  all  but 
drowned.  It  seemed  as  if  the  whole  ocean  poured 
into  my  bunk  and  held  me  down." 

We  found  the  cabin  half  full  of  water,  and  it  took 
us  all  day  to  get  things  straightened  out  below,  while 

208 


To  Clipperton  Reef 


the  men  unbent  the  split  mainsail  and  began  to  re- 
pair it. 

When  Garnett  and  the  professor  came  on  board 
that  night  they  were  astonished  at  the  damage  done, 
for  there  had  been  no  sign  of  wind  on  the  reef. 

In  the  schooner's  hold  we  found  everything  in  a 
mess,  and  all  our  fishing-gear  and  lines  piled  up  on 
the  port  side  in  one  big  tangle.  Garnett  managed 
to  pick  out  the  bomb-gun  and  some  irons  from  the 
pile,  and  Frisbow,  after  wiping  the  gun,  had  the  cook 
fill  it  with  beef  tallow  to  keep  out  the  rust 

That  night  we  held  a  council,  and,  as  there  were 
three  to  one  for  going  inside  the  reef,  the  skipper's 
objections  were  finally  overruled,  and  it  was  de- 
cided that  we  should  remain  in  there  until  work  on 
the  whale  was  finished.  The  next  morning  at  sun- 
rise we  headed  in  through  the  entrance,  and  by  noon 
were  moored  snugly  enough  on  the  inside. 

The  work  of  skinning  the  whale  was  soon  accom- 
plished, and  the  skin  was  staked  out,  with  one  or 
two  of  the  sharks  we  had  captured,  and  left  to  the 
care  of  the  professor. 

I  did  not  fancy  the  work  of  getting  out  the  ani- 
mal's skeleton,  as  the  stench  from  the  body  was  now 
unbearable,  so  I  spent  my  time  in  procuring  speci- 
mens of  a  more  attractive  sort  from  the  clear  waters 
of  the  reef. 

I  had  been  thus  engaged  for  several  days,  and  was 

returning  to  the  schooner  one  evening,  when  I  heard 

a  deep  booming  sound  that  seemed  to  fill  the  air 

about  me.    The  ground  under  me  trembled  violently 

14  209 


The  Wind-jammers 


and  it  was  with  difficulty  I  kept  my  feet  I  hurried 
towards  the  schooner,  and  met  Frisbow  on  the  beach 
opposite  where  she  was  moored.  His  face  expressed 
great  anxiety,  and  he  asked  me  if  I  had  felt  the 
earthquake.  I  replied  that  I  had,  and  wondered 
what  would  happen  next.  He  didn't  answer,  but  I 
could  see  that  he  was  more  excited  than  I  had  ever 
seen  him  before. 

When  we  reached  the  schooner  Garnett  was  being 
rated  by  Captain  Brown  for  having  suggested  bring- 
ing the  vessel  into  such  a  hole.  The  skipper  had 
felt  the  shock,  and  swore  that  we  would  have  the  ac- 
companying tidal  wave  in  about  half  an  hour,  adding 
that  if  it  caught  us  in  there  we  were  as  good  as  dead 
men. 

It  was  not  quite  dark,  so  without  a  moment's  de- 
lay we  made  sail  and  stood  for  the  entrance.  There 
was  no  wind  to  speak  of,  and  the  skipper,  fearing 
that  we  might  drift  into  the  breakers,  had  Garnett 
and  the  three  sailors  man  the  whale-boat  and  tow  us 
to  keep  up  good  headway. 

I  took  the  wheel  and  Captain  Brown  went  forward 
to  direct  our  movements.  We  went  straight  for  the 
middle  of  the  cut,  while  the  sun  dipped  below  the 
western  horizon  and  the  sudden  tropic  night  fell 
upon  the  ocean.  The  moon  was  a  few  degrees  high 
in  the  east,  and  we  knew  that  there  would  be  plenty 
of  light,  anyhow,  to  steer  by,  as  we  kept  slowly  on. 

In  a  little  while  we  neared  the  entrance,  and  it 
looked  as  if  we  would  be  on  the  open  ocean  within 
half  an  hour,  when  all  of  a  sudden  I  heard  a  harsh, 

210 


To  Clipperton  Reef 


grinding  sound,  and  the  schooner,  with  a  slight  jar, 
became  motionless.  The  skipper  came  rushing  aft 
and  peered  over  the  taffrail,  muttering  a  string  of 
oaths  through  his  set  teeth. 

"What  is  it?"  I  asked,  as  I  left  the  wheel  and 
rushed  to  the  rail. 

He  said  nothing,  but  dived  below  for  a  lead-line. 
In  a  moment  he  was  forward  again  and  flung  the 
lead  overboard,  but  I  noticed  that  the  line  failed  to 
run  out. 

"What  is  it  ?"  I  asked  again. 

He  turned  his  face  towards  me,  and  I  saw  its 
ghastly  expression  in  the  moonlight. 

"God  knows,"  he  growled,  "but  we  are  hard  and 
fast  on  the  reef,  and  there  isn't  half  a  fathom  of 
water  anywhere  ahead  of  us."  He  bawled  for  Gar- 
nett  to  come  on  board,  and  I  heard  the  startled  ex- 
clamations from  the  men  in  the  boat  as  they  hauled 
in  the  tow-line  and  came  alongside. 

In  a  moment  the  skipper  jumped  into  the  boat 
with  the  hand-lead  and  started  off  through  the  en- 
trance. 

I  could  see  him  making  soundings  for  nearly  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  ahead  as  they  glided  over  the 
calm  moonlit  water,  and  then  the  boat  was  put 
about  suddenly,  and  she  came  for  the  schooner. 
Frisbow  and  I  went  to  the  side. 

"We're  in  for  it  now,"  said  the  skipper,  with  an 
oath,  as  he  clambered  on  deck.  "  The  whole  bot- 
tom seems  to  have  raised  up,  and  there  isn't  enough 
water  to  float  a  junk-barrel  across  the  whole  cut." 

211 


The  Wind-jammers 


"  Come,  bear  a  hand  !"  he  yelled  to  Garnett.  "Get 
a  line  out  aft  and  we'll  see  if  we  can  kedge  her  off; 
we  can't  lay  here  all  night." 

Frisbow  looked  at  me  and  I  at  him,  but  we  said 
nothing.  We  were  caught  like  a  rat  in  a  hole,  and 
the  only  thing  to  do  was  to  get  the  schooner  afloat 
and  wait  for  daylight,  when  things  might  not  be  as 
bad  as  they  appeared. 

There  was  no  time  to  speculate  until  we  got  the 
schooner  off  the  ledge,  so  we  lent  a  hand  and  got 
the  kedge  into  the  boat,  and  Garnett  bent  on  the 
tow-line  and  dropped  astern. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  came  on  board,  and  all  hands 
tailed  onto  the  line  to  haul  her  off  We  hauled  and 
tugged,  but  it  was  no  use,  we  couldn't  start  her. 
Finally  we  passed  the  line  forward  to  the  windlass, 
and  after  half  an  hour's  heaving  we  had  the  satis- 
faction of  feeling  the  little  vessel  slide  off  into  deep 
water  again.  There  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  go 
back  to  our  moorings,  so,  sending  the  boat  ahead 
again,  we  towed  back  and  made  fast  at  our  old  berth, 
all  hands  quite  worn  out  with  our  exertions. 

There  was  no  thought  of  rest,  however,  for  any  of 
us  ;  our  case  was  too  bad  for  that.  We  were  in  no 
immediate  danger,  but  we  were  cut  off  from  the 
world  as  suddenly  and  as  effectually  as  if  we  were 
confined  on  the  moon.  Our  provisions  would  last 
six  months  with  care,  but  even  in  that  time  the 
chances  were  against  our  sighting  a  vessel  in  that 
locality. 

As  soon  as  the  schooner  was  safely  moored  we 

212 


To  Clipperton  Reef 


went  ashore  and  explored  the  reef,  but  there  was  no 
apparent  change  in  any  part  above  water.  The 
skipper  was  beside  himself  with  rage  at  being 
caught,  and  blamed  Garnett  for  the  whole  affair. 
Garnett  said  little  and  mopped  his  head  frequently 
with  his  handkerchief,  but  I  fancied  I  saw  a  peculiar 
gleam  in  his  eye  when  the  captain  became  more 
than  usually  violent. 

After  spending  the  whole  night  trying  to  work  out 
some  solution  of  our  difficulty,  we  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  only  way  was  to  strip  the  vessel, 
heel  her  over  on  her  bilge,  and  force  her  through  the 
entrance. 

We  discussed  every  possible  method  of  lighten- 
ing her,  and  the  skipper  finally  thought  that  by 
taking  everything  out  of  her  except  her  masts  we 
might  get  across  the  reef  with  what  little  current 
there  would  be  to  favor  us. 

As  soon  as  it  was  daylight  we  started  for  the  en- 
trance to  examine  it  carefully  and  find  the  deepest 
water.  The  air  was  hot  and  still,  and  the  water  of 
the  lagoon  had  a  greasy  look. 

The  first  thing  that  attracted  our  attention  was  a 
large,  dark  object  that  rose  on  the  reef  where  yes- 
terday there  had  been  nearly  fifty  feet  of  water. 
All  eyes  were  directed  to  it  as  it  lay  there  like  a 
huge  mass  of  coral  weed  with  great  festoons  hanging 
from  its  sides. 

Suddenly  the  skipper  sprang  to  his  feet  "  My 
God,  it's  a  ship  !"  he  cried 

All  hands  stopped  rowing  and  turned  in  their  seats, 
213 


The  Wind-jammers 


when    Garnett,    who    was   steering,   bawled    out  to 
"  Give  way  together  !"  and  we  headed  straight  for  it 

As  we  approached,  we  saw  that  it  was  the  huJ  of 
a  large  ship  lying  on  its  bilge,  but  so  covered  with 
marine  growths  that  its  outline  could  hardly  be 
traced  in  the  great  mass.  It  lay  well  out,  and  the 
wash  of  the  surf  broke  against  the  stern  ;  this  is  the 
reason  we  didn't  notice  it  during  the  night  There 
were  three  or  four  feet  of  water  around  it,  so  we 
forced  the  boat  through  the  floating  weed  until  we 
were  alongside. 

Garnett  clambered  to  the  deck  amidships  closely 
followed  by  Frisbow  and  myself.  We  made  our  way 
aft  aloft  along  the  slippery  incline  by  clinging  to  the 
weed  that  covered  everything,  and  reached  a  large 
hole  that  had  evidently  been  the  entrance  to  the 
cabin.  The  whole  design  of  the  ship  was  strange 
and  different  from  any  modern  vessel  1  had  ever  seen. 
We  peered  down  the  opening,  but  could  see  noth- 
ing inside  except  various-colored  marine  growths. 

The  professor  was  for  going  below  instantly,  but 
Garnett  held  back  and  contented  himself  with  ex- 
amining the  steering-gear,  where  he  was  joined  by 
the  skipper. 

Frisbow  let  himself  down  the  opening  and  I, 
feeling  ashamed  to  let  him  go  alone,  let  myself 
down  after  him. 

The  cabin  was  dark  inside,  for  the  windows  were 
covered  with  weed,  but  I  could  make  out  the  form 
of  the  professor  as  he  groped  his  way  along  the 
slippery  floor  into  the  darkness  forward. 

214 


To  Clipperton  Reef 


After  going  a  short  distance  into  what  appeared 
to  be  a  large  saloon  the  grass  seemed  to  grow 
thinner  and  I  stood  up  and  looked  about  me.  As  I 
did  so  my  head  came  in  sharp  contact  with  a  curious 
brass  lamp  which  hung  suspended  from  one  of  the 
deck-beams.  My  exclamation  caused  Frisbow  to 
join  me,  and  together  we  examined  the  strange 
fittings  about  us. 

A  table  and  some  chairs,  which  were  fastened  to 
the  floor,  still  held  their  shapes  although  covered 
with  grass  and  slime,  and  from  the  strange  carving 
on  their  legs,  which  was  still  visible  in  places,  the 
professor  pronounced  them  to  be  Spanish. 

A  little  farther  on  we  came  to  a  bulkhead  with 
two  doors,  which  were  open  and  led  into  an  inky 
black  space  beyond.  The  professor  struck  a  match, 
and  we  saw  that  both  doors  had  short  companion- 
ways  leading  to  a  cabin  on  the  berth- deck  and  that 
the  ladders  were  sound  although  covered  with  slime. 
The  match  went  out,  but  Frisbow  instantly  struck 
another  and  started  down.  We  reached  the  floor 
of  a  small  cabin,  which  had  two  doors  on  each  side 
and  which  was  quite  free  from  the  heavy  sea-growth 
we  had  encountered  above.  There  was  a  table  in 
the  centre  and  the  frames  of  several  heavy  chairs, 
while  from  above  hung  a  large  brass  lamp  covered 
with  verdigris  and  similar  in  pattern  to  the  one  I 
had  encountered  with  my  head. 

Striking  another  match,  we  entered  the  first  door 
to  the  right.  There  was  nothing  in  it  but  a  large 
wooden  chest,  which  lay  open  and  contained  a 

215 


The  Wind-jammers 


pulpy  and  slimy  mass.  In  a  bunk  was  the  same 
material,  while  on  the  bulkheads  were  green  brass 
rods  which  had  evidently  held  some  sort  of  drapery 
that  had  long  ago  succumbed  to  the  action  of  sea- 
water.  In  the  other  rooms  we  found  several  old 
matchlock  guns  almost  entirely  rust  and  also  half  a 
dozen  long  straight  swords.  On  a  shelf  was  a  tinder- 
box  of  brass  with  the  flint  as  good  as  new,  but  the 
steel  was  a  brown  lump.  There  were  a  number 
of  rusty  knives  and  several  brass  frames,  together 
with  a  lot  of  glassware  and  crockery.  Some  of  this 
rubbish  crunched  sharply  underfoot  in  the  ooze, 
but  everything  else  not  of  wood  or  iron  had  decayed 
beyond  recognition. 

The  professor  was  down  to  his  last  match  when 
we  came  across  a  small  chest  in  the  last  room.  It 
was  of  iron  but  not  heavy,  so  I  took  it  under  my 
arm  as  we  made  for  the  companion-way. 

It  gave  me  a  nervous  feeling  to  be  down  in  the 
black,  slimy  hold  of  that  lost  ship,  and  I  was  rather 
glad  to  start  for  the  deck  again.  Before  we  reached 
the  ladder  the  professor's  last  match  was  out,  and 
we  groped  our  way  aft  as  best  we  could,  encumbered 
with  all  the  spoils  we  could  carry. 

The  silence  and  darkness  made  me  hasten  my 
steps,  when  just  before  I  reached  the  ladder  a 
terrific  yell  echoed  through  the  blackness,  causing 
me  to  drop  everything  and  start  with  a  sudden 
terror.  Then  in  a  moment  the  skipper's  hoarse 
voice  bawled  down  to  us  from  the  door  above, 
wanting  to  know  if  we  intended  to  remain  aboard 

216 


To  Clipperton  Reef 


all  the  morning.  The  old  sword  I  had  was  too  rusty 
to  be  of  any  use,  otherwise  I  think  I  should  have 
run  him  through  the  body ;  so,  cursing  him  loudly 
for  his  impatience,  to  the  professor's  great  amuse- 
ment, I  picked  up  my  things  and  mounted  the 
ladder. 

On  reaching  the  deck  we  found  Garnett  had 
discovered  a  brass  gun  lying  on  the  port  side  of  the 
ship,  and  he  was  busy  spinning  a  yarn  to  the  men 
in  the  boat,  when  the  skipper  bawled  out  for  them 
to  lend  a  hand  to  get  our  stuff  aboard.  We  placed 
the  iron  box  in  the  stern  and,  jumping  in,  started  to 
examine  the  cut  for  a  channel  to  get  to  sea. 

We  had  only  been  on  the  wreck  a  few  minutes, 
but  we  had  no  desire  to  remain  any  longer  until  we 
found  a  way  out  of  the  lagoon. 

After  sounding  all  the  morning  we  found  the 
depth  pretty  much  the  same  all  the  way  across,  and 
we  now  noticed  that  the  whole  reef  appeared  much 
higher  on  the  south  side  than  before.  The  part 
above  high-water  also  showed  many  seams  and 
fissures  that  we  had  not  seen  there  when  we  first 
examined  it. 

About  noon  we  headed  for  the  schooner,  feeling 
anxious  and  depressed.  Frisbow  was  more  sanguine 
than  the  rest  of  us  about  lighting  the  schooner  and 
forcing  her  across  the  barrier,  but  I  knew  it  would 
be  a  desperate  undertaking  when  we  struck  the 
breakers,  that  now  rolled  clear  across  the  entrance. 

When  we  reached  the  schooner  we  pried  off  the 
\id  of  the  iron  box  and  found  a  mass  of  discolored 

217 


The  Wind- Jammers 


pulp,  at  the  bottom  of  which  was  a  brass  plate  with 
the  word  Isabella  cut  upon  it  in  large  char- 
acters. 

We  were  so  tired  out  with  our  exertions  that  as 
soon  as  we  had  something  to  eat  all  hands  turned  in 
for  a  short  rest  before  beginning  to  unload  every- 
thing on  the  beach.  This  appeared  to  be  the  only 
way  out  of  the  difficulty,  and  the  skipper's  anxiety 
increased  at  every  delay. 

In  the  afternoon  we  began  to  get  the  gear  out 
of  the  hold,  and  soon  had  the  deck  covered  with 
stuff  of  all  kinds  to  be  sent  ashore.  As  we  had  to 
break  out  some  of  our  provisions,  we  closed  the 
hatchway  that  evening  on  account  of  the  heavy 
dew  that  fell  at  night. 

After  supper  we  started  to  load  the  boat,  but  as 
the  men  were  tired  they  worked  slowly.  Garnett 
was  growing  ugly  under  the  continual  nagging  by 
the  skipper,  and  once  Frisbow  started  to  remon- 
strate with  the  captain  for  directing  his  abuse  against 
the  mate.  This  only  had  the  effect  of  precipitating 
matters,  and  Garnett,  who  was  passing  some  of  the 
gear  into  the  boat  alongside,  threw  down  the  coil 
of  rope  he  had  in  his  hand  and  swore  a  great  oath 
that  he  would  not  do  another  stroke  of  work  until 
the  skipper  "  mended  his  jaw  tackle." 

This  drove  the  old  man  into  a  frenzy,  and  before 
we  could  stop  him  he  grabbed  a  harpoon  and  poised 
it  to  hurl  at  the  mate. 

"You  mutinous  scoundrel,"  he  yelled,  "I'll  show 
you  who's  captain  of  this  craft!"  Quick  as  thought 

218 


To  Clipperton  Reef 


he  threw  the  iron,  and  I  believed  Garnett's  end  had 
come. 

Quicker  still  did  the  old  sailor  spring  to  one  side, 
and,  grabbing  the  bomb-gun,  let  drive  at  the  skip- 
per's head,  while  the  harpoon  drove  clear  through 
the  port  bulwarks  and  hung  there.  The  recoil  of 
the  gun  sent  Garnett  staggering  backward,  while 
the  captain,  throwing  up  his  hands,  fell  like  a  log 
across  the  hatchway.  Frisbow  and  I  stood  horror- 
stricken  for  an  instant  and  then  we  rushed  to  the 
captain's  side.  I  expected  to  find  half  of  his  head 
torn  off  by  the  shell,  but,  although  his  face  was 
black  with  powder  and  the  blood  oozed  from  his 
mouth,  he  appeared  to  have  no  wound  whatever. 

We  carried  him  aft  and  laid  him  out  in  his  bunk, 
Garnett  lending  a  hand  as  if  nothing  had  happened 
between  them.  Then  the  professor  went  for  the 
medicine-chest. 

After  washing  blood,  grease,  and  powder  from 
the  old  man's  bruised  face  and  applying  a  little 
spirits  between  his  swelling  lips,  he  suddenly  opened 
his  eyes  and  saw  Garnett  standing  close  by.  He 
made  a  quick  movement  as  though  to  rise,  but 
Frisbow  held  him  down.  Then  seeing  we  had  mis- 
taken the  motive,  he  smiled  a  ghastly  smile  and 
held  out  his  hand  in  the  direction  of  the  mate. 

Garnett  stepped  forward  and  took  it  and  their 
eyes  met. 

"You've  killed  me  fair  and  square  and  I  don't 
bear  you  any  malice,"  said  the  captain  with  great 
difficulty. 

219 


The  Wind-jammers 


"  Killed  nothing,"  growled  Garnett,  with  half  a 
smile ;  "  I  only  blowed  a  gallon  or  two  of  tallow 
into  your  whiskers ;  you  were  so  almighty  quick, 
you  know." 

Here  the  skipper  muttered  an  oath  and  tried  to 
get  up  again,  but  Frisbow  and  I  both  held  him 
quiet. 

"  You  lie  quiet  to-night,"  said  the  professor ; 
"there's  no  tremendous  hurry  about  this  business, 
and  to-morrow  this  dizziness  will  be  out  of  your 
head." 

He  poured  out  a  stiff  glass  of  spirits,  which  the 
captain  gulped  down,  and,  after  bandaging  up  the 
lower  part  of  the  bruised  face  with  wet  towels,  we 
left  him  and  went  on  deck. 

Garnett  kept  chuckling  to  himself  during  the 
evening  as  we  loaded  the  boat,  and  when  the  moon 
came  up  he  and  two  men  started  to  carry  the  load  to 
the  beach. 

While  they  were  absent  Frisbow  and  I  sat  on  the 
rail  and  discussed  our  chances  of  getting  to  sea  again 
in  a  few  days.  I  did  not  like  to  tell  him  how  small 
our  chances  were,  for  he  appeared  to  have  perfect 
confidence  in  our  ability  to  float  the  vessel  overland 
on  a  heavy  dew  if  it  became  necessary. 

The  boat  had  been  gone  about  an  hour  and  the 
moon  was  now  high  in  the  cloudless  heavens,  and  I 
was  getting  sleepy,  so  I  lit  my  pipe  and  smoked  hard 
to  keep  awake.  The  water  shone  like  a  polished  mir- 
ror of  silver,  and  the  dark  outline  of  the  reef  loomed 
distinctly  through  the  night  on  all  sides.  We  could 

220 


To  Clipperton  Reef 


hear  Garnett  and  the  men  talking  on  the  beach  as 
they  unloaded  the  boat,  but  besides  this  there  was 
not  a  sound  on  that  desolate  spot  save  the  deep  hum 
of  the  surf  outside  the  barrier. 

My  thoughts  turned  to  the  wreck,  which  shone 
like  a  black  speck  in  the  white  wash  of  the  sea,  and 
we  talked  of  how  she  had  probably  run  on  the  ledge 
in  the  night,  years  ago,  and  then  slid  off  into  deep 
water.  Her  crew,  even  if  they  were  rescued,  must 
have  died  over  a  century  ago,  and  there  was  little 
chance  of  our  ever  rinding  any  record  of  her  loss. 
That  she  was  a  Spanish  ship  and  her  name  Isabella 
I  felt  quite  certain  ;  but  even  that  fact  conveyed 
little  knowledge  to  any  of  us. 

While  we  sat  on  the  rail  and  talked  a  deep 
booming  like  thunder  suddenly  broke  the  stillness 
about  us,  and  the  little  vessel  trembled  violently. 
We  started  to  our  feet  and  listened  as  the  great 
volume  of  sound  filled  the  air  around  us,  dying 
away  gradually  in  pulsations.  We  heard  the  cries 
of  the  men  on  the  beach,  followed  by  a  few  moments 
of  silence  ;  then  the  booming  began  again  and  lasted 
a  few  seconds,  dying  out  as  before. 

"I  suppose  we're  about  as  safe  here  as  any- 
where," muttered  the  professor;  "but  I  must  say 
that  is  the  most  terrific  sound  I've  ever  heard." 

We  waited  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  in  silence,  when 
the  stillness  was  broken  by  the  wash  of  oars  as  Gar- 
nett started  to  come  aboard.  We  could  not  see  the 
boat  against  the  dark  outline  of  the  shore,  but  we 
could  hear  the  clank  of  the  rowlocks,  and  I  leaned 


The  Wind-jammers 


over  the  side,  knowing  it  would  be  in  sight  in  a  few 
moments. 

As  I  watched  the  water  I  was  suddenly  aware  of 
a  strong  current  setting  past  the  vessel  towards  the 
entrance,  and  at  the  same  instant  Frisbow  uttered 
a  startled  exclamation.  In  an  instant  the  boat 
showed  clear  in  the  moonlight  and  Garnett's  voice 
bawled  out  for  to  throw  him  a  line. 

Seizing  the  main-sheet,  I  threw  it  to  him  as  the 
men  were  bending  to  the  oars  as  if  rowing  through 
a  rapid.  The  man  forward  caught  it  and  hauled 
alongside,  all  hands  wasting  no  time  in  clambering 
to  the  schooner's  deck. 

"  It's  a  tidal  wave,  sure,"  grunted  Garnett,  out  of 
breath.  "Look  out  for  the  hatches." 

In  less  than  a  minute  we  had  everything  lashed 
down  forward,  and  then  all  hands  came  aft  to  the 
companion-way  of  the  cabin.  As  we  stood  there 
we  heard  a  deep  murmur  from  the  northward  and 
westward,  which  gradually  increased  as  the  seconds 
flew  by. 

"  How  are  the  anchors  ?' '  asked  the  professor  of 
Garnett. 

"  Every  fathom  of  the  best  Norway  iron  tailing  to 
each  one,"  answered  the  mate;  "but  they'll  never 
hold  if  the  sea  comes  over  the  reef." 

Suddenly  the  deep  murmur  swelled  into  a  thun- 
dering roar.  The  schooner  strained  at  her  cables 
as  the  water  flashed  past,  and  then  above  the  reef 
we  saw  a  hill  rise  white  in  the  moonlight  with  its 
crest  ragged  and  broken  against  the  night  sky.  The 


To  Clipperton  Reef 


very  air  shook  with  the  jar  of  that  foaming  crest 
as  it  fell  with  a  mighty  crash  on  the  reef  and  went 
over  it. 

"  Get  below  !"  roared  Garnett,  and  we  tumbled 
down  the  companion  into  the  cabin,  the  mate  pulling 
the  hatch-slide  after  him  and  fastening  it. 

The  skipper  had  sprung  from  his  bunk  when  the 
roar  had  awakened  him,  and  stood  looking  at  us  in 
dismay  as  we  tumbled  below.  In  an  instant  I  felt 
the  schooner  rise  as,  with  a  deafening,  smothering 
crash,  the  surge  struck  and  passed  over  her.  She 
seemed  to  mount  into  the  air  and  fly  through  space 
for  nearly  a  minute.  I  found  myself  lying  on  the 
port  side  with  my  feet  against  the  deck-beams  and 
my  hands  stretched  out  against  the  cabin  floor. 
The  next  instant  she  righted  with  a  jerk  and  I 
found  myself  lying  on  top  of  Garnett  in  the  middle 
of  the  cabin.  The  water  poured  through  the  crack 
of  the  hatchway  and  down  the  skylight,  so  for  an 
instant  I  supposed  we  were  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 
Garnett,  however,  flung  me  aside  and  started  for  the 
deck. 

The  schooner  made  a  few  sharp  rolls  and  then 
partly  steadied  herself  on  an  even  keel  as  the  mate 
slid  back  the  hatch-slide.  Instead  of  tons  of  water 
pouring  down  upon  us,  as  we  looked  up  we  caught 
a  glimpse  of  the  full  moon  in  a  clear  sky,  and  I 
don't  remember  anything  that  looked  half  so  beau- 
tiful as  it  did  to  me  at  that  moment. 

We  scrambled  on  deck  and  looked  about  us. 
There,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away  to  the  northward, 

223 


The  Wind-jammers 


lay  Clipperton  Reef,  quiet  and  peaceful  on  the 
bosom  of  the  calm  Pacific  Ocean.  Not  a  thing 
was  left,  save  a  few  streaks  in  the  moonlit  water 
which  looked  like  tide-rips,  to  show  that  any  dis- 
turbance had  taken  place. 

As  for  the  schooner,  our  bowsprit  and  foretop-mast 
were  missing,  and  the  main-boom  was  broken  at 
the  saddle,  but  our  lower  masts  were  all  right.  The 
bits  forward  were  torn  completely  out  of  her  with 
the  surge  on  the  anchors,  and  her  decks  were  swept 
perfectly  clean,  but  when  we  sounded  the  well  and 
found  only  two  feet  of  water  in  the  hold  we  knew 
we  were  safe.  She  had  gone  over  the  reef  on  the 
crest  of  the  tidal  wave  and  had  not  even  touched 
it.  Whether  we  went  through  the  cut  or  not  it  was 
impossible  to  tell. 

The  boat  was  gone,  so  we  could  not  go  ashore 
again  even  if  we  wanted  to,  but  the  professor  was 
the  only  one  who  showed  the  slightest  inclination  in 
this  respect,  and  after  we  assured  him  of  the  loss  of 
his  specimens  he  showed  even  less  than  the  rest 
of  us. 

The  skipper  stayed  on  deck  during  the  remainder 
of  the  night  while  we  worked  the  schooner  away 
from  the  breakers.  As  there  was  no  wind  we  had 
to  do  this  by  means  of  a  drag,  which  one  man  car- 
ried forward  and  dropped  overboard,  while  the  rest 
of  us  tailed  on  to  the  rope  which  led  through  a  block 
on  her  quarter.  By  midnight  we  were  out  of  all 
danger,  and,  after  putting  the  foresail  on  her,  we 
divided  into  our  regular  watches  again. 

224 


To  Clipper  ton  Reef 


The  next  morning  we  went  to  work  to  repair 
damages,  and  by  noon  we  had  all  the  lower  sails  set. 
A  light  air  drifted  us  slowly  to  the  westward,  and 
before  night  we  saw  the  reef  for  the  last  time. 

We  had  nearly  a  hundred  valuable  specimens  in 
the  hold,  and,  considering  our  bad  luck,  we  were 
not  entirely  unsuccessful.  Frisbow  fretted  a  good 
deal  about  his  whale,  but  when  we  struck  the  trade- 
wind  his  spirits  rose  so  high  at  the  prospect  of  being 
home  again  in  a  few  weeks  that  even  this  loss  was 
forgotten. 

The  skipper  and  Garnett  got  along  together  splen- 
didly, and  there  was  less  swearing  done  on  board 
during  the  run  home  than  probably  ever  before 
among  five  sailors  afloat.  The  only  great  incon- 
venience was  the  loss  of  our  galley,  which  caused  us 
to  have  to  cook  in  the  cabin  and  eat  with  the  fore- 
castle mess  things. 

On  the  sixty-first  day  out  we  sighted  the  Farra- 
lone  Islands,  and  that  night  we  were  ashore  in  San 
Francisco. 

After  being  ashore  about  a  month  I  was  astonished 
one  day  to  find  Professor  Frisbow's  card  at  my  lodg- 
ings asking  me  to  call  at  once  on  him  at  the  Museum. 
I  did  so  and  found  him  greatly  excited.  Without 
giving  me  a  chance  to  ask  questions  he  immediately 
began  to  tell  me  about  the  wreck  we  saw  on  the 
reef. 

"She  was  the  Spanish  ship  Isabella,"  he  said, 
"  and  I  want  your  confidence  in  the  matter  I'm  going 
to  arrange." 

15  225 


The  Wind-jammers 


I  promised  secrecy,  and  then  he  told  me  that  upon 
looking  up  old  records  he  had  found  there  was  a 
ship  by  that  name  lost  with  all  hands  somewhere 
in  the  Pacific,  and  that  she  was  fairly  loaded  with 
silver  bullion. 

I  did  not  place  much  faith  in  the  matter,  but  told 
him  I  would  try  and  get  a  vessel  to  take  him  back 
there  if  he  wanted  to  go. 

He  was  much  disappointed  at  my  reception  of  his 
scheme,  but  he  accompanied  me  to  Garnett's  board- 
ing-place, where  we  discussed  the  matter  with  that 
sailor  at  the  risk  of  losing  everything. 

After  a  little  talk  the  mate  finally  convinced  Fris- 
bow  that  the  wreck  was  either  washed  ofT  into  deep 
water  or  torn  to  pieces  by  the  sea  that  carried  us 
over  the  reef,  so  that  in  either  case  it  would  be 
useless  to  hunt  for  the  treasure. 

This  ended  the  matter  so  far  as  the  professor 
and  I  were  concerned,  but  I  heard  afterwards  how 
Garnett  had  bribed  the  skipper  of  the  next  ship  he 
sailed  on  to  put  in  there  and  examine  the  place. 

No  one  ever  knew  if  he  found  anything,  for  the 
captain  and  he  were  the  only  ones  who  went  ashore 
during  three  weeks  spent  there,  but  it  was  his  last 
voyage,  for  he  afterwards  bought  a  little  farm  up 
the  valley  and  lived  quietly  with  a  very  young  and 
pretty  girl  for  a  wife. 


226 


THE  TRANSMIGRATION  OF 
AMOS  JONES 

A~~TER  supper  Zack  Green  came  on  deck,  and, 
seating  himself  on  the  bitt  coverings  near 
the  port  quarter-rail,  lit  a  villanous  looking 
cigar  and  began  to  smoke. 

We  had  run  into  the  southeast  trade  and  were 
reaching  along  to  the  southward  under  skysails.  It 
was  just  seven  bells  and  O'Toole,  the  first  mate,  had 
half  an  hour  more  of  his  watch  on  deck.  The  even- 
ing was  clear,  and  the  lumpy  little  trade-clouds  flew 
merrily  away  to  the  northwest.  Not  even  a  skysail 
halyard  had  been  touched  for  a  week,  so  O'Toole 
lounged  carelessly  fore  and  aft  on  the  quarter-deck, 
stopping  at  every  turn  when  he  reached  the  skipper 
to  see  if  he  had  anything  to  say. 

In  good  weather  Captain  Green's  discipline  was 
not  too  strict,  and  he  would  often  talk  to  the  officer 
on  watch.  "  I  was  thinking,'1  said  he,  without  tak- 
ing his  eyes  from  the  horizon-line,  "  about  this  trans- 
portation or  emigration  of  souls  you  hear  so  much 
about  nowadays.  You  know  what  I  mean, — one  per- 
son's soul  getting  the  weather-gauge  of  another's  ; 
and  do  you  know,  by  Gorry,  I  believe  there's  some 
truth  in  it." 

"Sure  !  No  fear,  'pon  me  whurd  ;  I  know  it's  a 
fact,"  said  O'Toole. 

"There's  no  doubt  of  it" 
227 


The  Wind-jammers 


"  I  was  just  thinking  av  a  case  in  hand,  an',  'pon 
me  whurd,  'twas  typical  av  th'  machination.  D'ye 
remember  owld  man  Crojack  ?  But  ye  must,  fer  he 
was  one  av  th'  owld  shell-back  wind-jammers  av 
yer  time,  an'  a  man  to  decorate  a  quarter-deck. 

"Ye  remember  th'  time  he  took  Mr.  Jones  to 
Chancy?  That's  th'  case  in  hand.  Twas  transmi- 
gration av  sowl  fer  sowl,  sure. 

"  He  was  a  contumacious  rask'l,  this  Jones,  an' 
'twas  by  this  token  I  came  to  like  him. 

"  His  governor  offered  Crojack  one  thousand  dol- 
lars if  he  would  take  him  to  sea  an'  bring  him  back 
again  minus  th'  unaccountable  thirst  he  had  fer 
iced  wines  an'  owld  liquors.  An'  th'  owld  man  did 
it 

"There  was  money  enough  in  th'  Jones  family. 
But  that  is  where  th'  trouble  came  in.  Th'  young 
divil  must  have  had  nigh  onto  a  ton  av  stuff  sent 
outside  th'  bar  to  meet  us  th'  day  we  sailed.  Bot- 
tles av  all  kinds  came  over  th'  rail  whin  th'  owld 
man  lay  th'  topsail  to  th'  mast  an'  waited  to  see 
what  th'  small  boat  ahead  av  us  wanted.  Crojack 
didn't  object,  fer  he  reckoned  to  lock  th'  stuff  in  th' 
lazarette  an'  sell  it  at  a  fair  figure  in  Hong-Kong. 
I  remember  th'  outfly  th'  youngster  made  over  th' 
grub.  We  were  living  better  than  any  ship  in  th' 
Chancy  trade,  an'  more  like  a  man-o'-war  than  any 
trader  afloat,  but  nothing  would  do  him. 

"Wan  morning  he  came  to  th'  owld  man  an' 
said  there  was  a  bug  in  his  bunk.  '  Likely  as  not,' 
said  Crojack  ;  *  'pon  me  sowl,  there's  wan  in  mine.' 

228 


The  Transmigration  of  Amos  Jones 

"  If  it  hadn't  been  fer  me  th'  owld  man  would 
have  made  out  av  th'  wines,  but  when  he  had  th' 
stuff  locked  fast  th'  young  man  came  to  me,  so  sor- 
rowful like,  I  didn't  have  th'  heart  to  refuse  him  th' 
loan  av  a  capstan-bar.  Thin  we  went  halves,  an'  as 
fast  as  we'd  drink  th'  stuff  he  would  fill  th'  bottles  with 
good  salt  water  an'  put  them  back  again. 

" '  Faith,  ye  have  th'  makin'  av  an  uncommon 
nose  on  ye,'  said  th'  owld  man  one  day  to  th'  young 
Jones.  He  was  suspicious  av  th'  color.  *'Tis  a 
good  rule  not  to  belave  anything  ye  see  an'  noth- 
ing ye  hear,'  said  that  Amos,  cocking  his  eye  at  me. 
An'  th'  owld  man  never  thought  to  examine  his 
lazarette  till  we  made  Singapore.  Thin  we  came 
near  having  a  mutiny  aboard. 

"After  this  we  grew  mighty  quiet,  fer  our  grog 
was  cut  off  intirely,  an'  we  began  to  nose  around 
fer  something  to  scratch.  Jones  drank  all  th'  Wor- 
cestershire sauce  from  th'  cabin  mess,  an'  wound  up 
on  th'  alcohol  av  th'  varnish  tins  in  th'  carpenter's 
room. 

"  I  was  feeling  blue,  an'  by  th'  time  we  struck 
into  th'  hot  calms  av  th'  Chancy  Sea  I  was  seeing 
queer  things.  Wan  stifling,  foggy  morning  I  could 
stand  it  no  longer,  fer  I'd  had  a  nightmare  that  set 
me  shaking.  I  went  aft  to  th'  owld  man  an'  said, 
all  tremblin'  like,  '  Captain,  there's  something  wrong 
on  this  here  ship,  an'  I  had  a  bad  night  last  night.' 

"  *  Anything  wrong  for'ard  ?'  said  he.  '  I  thought 
ye  were  man  enough  to  manage  a  lot  av  fellers  like 
these.' 


The  Wind-jammers 


"  '  Tain't  that/  I  said.      '  Nothin'  th'  matter  there.' 

"•Well,  what  in  blazes  is  it?'  he  roared.  'Out 
with  it.  What's  th'  matter  with  ye  ?' 

"  I  must  have  looked  pretty  rough,  fer  he  kept 
his  eyes  on  me,  staring  like,  but  I  was  a  little  ner- 
vous about  telling  my  suffering.  Finally  I  had  to 
let  it  come. 

"'It's  like  this,'  said  I.  'Last  night  I  lay  out 
on  the  main-hatch  durin'  my  watch  below.  I  was 
draming  av  Billy  Malone's  wake, — Bill,  yer  know, 
that  used  to  be  mate  with  Cutwater, — an'  I  could 
see  it  all  so  plain,  even  Bill's  pet  goat.  Th'  goat 
had  a  pigtail  as  long  as  yer  arrum  hanging  right 
under  his  chin,  an'  his  eyes  were  bad  looking.  I 
gives  th'  baste  a  kick,  an'  Malone  that's  dead  sat 
right  up  an'  grinned  horrible.  Thin  he  called  fer 
water,  an'  it  seemed  like  th'  new  taste  was  too  much 
fer  him.  He  drank  an'  drank  an'  swelled  an1 
swelled  till  he  got  as  big  as  th'  mainsail,  an'  all  th' 
time  I  heard  th'  splash,  splash,  splash  av  th'  liquid 
washing  down  his  innerds.  Thin  he  seemed  to 
overshadow  me  an'  thin  draw  slowly  away,  beck'ning 
me  to  follow.  An'  I  tried  to  follow  an'  woke  up. 
Ton  me  whurd,  fer  a  fact,  may  th'  saints  belave  me, 
there  he  was  drifting  off  th'  port  beam,  an'  I  could  hear 
th'  splash,  splash,  splash  fer  a  minute  afterwards.' 

"  '  Is  that  all  ?'  said  th'  owld  man. 

"  '  No,  sir ;  ever  since  we  struck  this  calm,  three 
days  ago,  I've  been  feeling  quare  like,  an'  I  ain't 
slept  overmuch — an',  an* — well,  if  ye  have  a  drap 
av  th'  craythur  it  would  do  me  good.' 

230 


The  Transmigration  of  Amos  Jones 

" '  Go  for'ard  an'  send  th'  carpenter  aft,  an'  then 
come  here.' 

"  So  I  did,  an'  whin  I  got  there  th'  owld  man  give 
me  an  uncommon  long  grog. 

"  '  Now,'  said  he,  '  clear  away  th'  after  battery  an* 
get  out  th'  muskets.  Ye  air  a  fine  dramist,  Mr. 
O'Toole.'  So  I  lent  a  hand  an'  got  th'  two  six- 
pounders  we  carried  on  th'  poop  clear  fer  firing. 
Thin  I  looks  out  th'  muskets.  Amos  Jones  came 
on  deck  an'  saw  th'  manoeuvres. 

"  '  What  fell  !'  said  he.  *  Be  ye  going  to  engage 
in  an  engagement?  Where's  th'  inimy?'  Forth' 
wasn't  a  rag  above  th'  sea-line. 

" '  Pirits,'  said  Chips,  ramming  a  bag  av  powder 
into  wan  av  th'  guns. 

"  '  Ye  don't  tell  !'  said  Amos. 

" '  Fact,'  said  Chips  ;  *  an'  now  if  you'll  pass  me 
a  ball  I'll  finish  this  roarer.' 

"But  there  wasn't  wan  aboard.  No,  sir;  powder 
there  was  in  plenty,  but  divil  a  ball  aboard  th' 
ship. 

"Th'  owld  man  swore,  an'  we  hunted  all  'tween- 
decks,  but  't  wasn't  any  use,  so  we  dealt  out  th' 
muskets  an'  waited  for  night. 

"  Pretty  soon  Amos  Jones  came  on  deck  again. 

"'I  have  it,'  said  he.  'Here's  th'  thing,'  an' 
he  held  up  a  bottle  filled  full  av  bullets  an'  nails. 
'Stave  me,  but  this  is  good  ammunition  ;  'twill  fit  to  a 
T.'  An'  sure  enough  it  did.  It  fitted  th'  bore  av 
th'  little  guns  exactly.  A  most  uncommon  bad 
thing  to  have  hove  at  ye  close  up. 

231 


The  Wind-jammers 


"  Th'  fog  held  an'  at  night  it  was  blacker  than  th' 
inside  av  th'  galley  stove-pipe.  We  had  begun  to 
laugh  at  th'  skipper,  but  he  said  nothing,  except  that 
we'd  see  something  before  morning  or  else  he'd  put 
me  in  irons  fer  the  biggest  liar  afloat  I  was  tired 
that  night,  but  I  kept  awake  an*  was  leaning  on  th' 
port  rail  about  midnight.  Suddenly  I  heard  a  rip- 
pling in  th'  calm  ocean  off  th'  port  beam.  I  passed 
th'  whurd  an'  we  lay  waiting,  Amos  standing  at  th' 
lanyard  av  th'  port  gun. 

"  All  av  a  suddin  we  saw  thim.  Two  junks  right 
alongside  jammed  to  th'  rail  with  pigtails. 

" '  Turn  her  loose  !'  bawled  th'  owld  man,  an' 
Amos  let  her  go  slap  into  thim.  That  bottle  burst 
close  aboard,  fer  ye  never  heard  sich  yelling.  Thin 
they  ranged  alongside  an'  was  fast  to  us,  an'  they 
swarmed  over  th'  rail  like  so  many  rats. 

"Well,  there  was  bloody  murder  aboard  us  fer 
half  an  hour.  'Twas  a  nasty  fight  an'  things  looked 
bad  at  wan  time.  But  Amos  trained  a  culverin 
down  th'  main-deck  an'  gave  thim  ground  glass, 
bullets,  an'  lug-bolts  to  th'  quane's  taste. 

"Thin  we  cleared  up  th'  mess  an'  they  let  go. 
But  Amos  had  got  it  bad. 

"  A  big  pigtail  had  hit  him  a  chip  in  th'  thick  av 
his  leg,  an'  he  was  bleeding  fer  further  orders. 

"  There  we  were,  two  days'  sail  from  Hong- Kong, 
an'  no  doctur  aboard. 

"We  tied  him  up  th'  best  we  could  an'  drew 
th'  hooker  with  th'  quarter-boats  ranged  ahead.  Fi- 
nally th'  air  come  an'  we  went  along. 

232 


The  Transmigration  of  Amos  Jones 

"Whin  we  made  th'  harbor  we  had  th'  doctur, 
an'  he  said, — 

"  'Lost  too  much  blood.' 

" '  Well,'  says  Crojack,  '  there's  plenty  av  it  in 
Chaney.' 

" '  Fact,'  said  th'  doctur,  an'  he  brought  th'  first 
loafer  he  found  aboard. 

"  '  Now,'  says  he,  '  I'll  have  sum  av  yer  juice, 
me  boy,  an'  pay  ye  tin  dollars  fer  it' 

"  Th'  Chaneyman  was  scared  at  first,  but  th' 
doctur  said  he  would  have  him  skinned  alive  if  he 
wouldn't  trade,  so  he  finally  did. 

"  He  guv  him  some  spirits  an'  hitched  th'  yeller 
boy's  artery  to  Amos  Jones's.  Thin  th'  natur  av  th' 
proceedings  did  th'  rest. 

"We  shut  off  grog  on  th'  voyage  home  an' 
Amos  acted  like  he  was  trying  to  become  a  dacent 
member  av  his  father's  church.  Whin  he  landed 
an'  said  good -by,  Crojack  was  making  his  reckon- 
ing fer  that  thousand  dollars. 

"  He  went  to  th'  office  wan  day  an'  there  he  met 
Amos  Jones  senior,  an'  he  reminded  th'  gent  av  his 
debt.  '  What  ?'  bawled  Jones.  '  Cured  him,  do  ye 
say?  Well,  he  was  bad  enough  before,  drinking 
like  a  gentleman,  but  ye've  ruined  him  intirely. 
Here  he  is  getting  biled  rice  cooked  fer  every  meal 
an'  getting  drunk  on  Chaney  saki  every  night.  No, 
sir,  not  a  cent  from  me,  sir.'  An'  they  say  he  cried 
like  th'  good  owld  father  he  was." 

O'Toole  stopped  here  and  went  to  the  break  of 
the  poop.  When  he  returned,  Zack  Green  was 

233 


The  Wind-jammers 


thinking.  "  It  may  be  so,"  said  the  skipper  ;  "  but 
did  you  ever  hear  what  become  of  the  Chinaman  ?" 

"That  I  did,"  said  OToole. 

"What?"  asked  Zack  Green. 

"Well,  Amos  Jones  was  a  frind  av  mine,  so,  if 
ye' 11  excuse  me,  I'll  not  say.  Ton  me  whurd,  I 
won't." 


*34 


MURPHY  OF  THE  CONE- 
MAUGH 

A"  L  deep-water   ships    carry  mascots.     As  the 
mascot  must  be  some  kind  of  living  creat- 
ure, a  cat  will  often  supply  the    necessary 
medium  for   carrying  on  pleasant  intercourse  with 
the  fickle  goddess  of  fortune.     But  men  on  deep- 
water  ships  must  be  fed,  especially  those  who  live  in 
the  after-cabin  or  who  help  to  form  what  is  called 
the  after-guard.     Therefore  it  is  not  an  uncommon 
sight  to  see  a  ship's  deck  looking  like  a  small  farm- 
yard afloat 

The  clipper  ship  Conemaugh  was  noted  for  her 
long  voyages.  She  was  a  product  of  the  old  school 
of  wind-jammers  and  her  skipper  was  a  Yankee  of 
Calvinistic  views,  who 

"  Proved  his  religion  orthodox 
By  apostolic  blows  and  knocks." 

He  met  little  Murphy,  the  ship's  pig,  the  morning 
the  youngster  was  brought  aboard.  The  little  fel- 
low was  in  the  arms  of  his  sponsor,  James  Murphy, 
able  seaman,  and  the  way  he  kicked  and  squealed 
made  the  black  moke  of  a  cook  poke  his  head  out 
of  the  galley  door  and  grin. 

"Take  good  care  of  that  fellow,"  said  the  skip- 
per. "  Them  white  hogs  air  wuth  two  black  ones 
on  the  West  Coast,  so  if  we  don't  have  to  eat  him  I 
kin  swap  him  off  easy  enough." 

235 


The  Wind-Jammers 


So  Murphy  was  put  in  a  pen  under  the  top-gallant- 
forecastle,  and  Jim  was  detailed  to  scrub  him  and 
otherwise  attend  to  his  wants.  With  all  this  care  it 
would  seem  that  he  could  hardly  help  becoming  a 
good  pig.  But  he  was  like  many  youngsters  who 
have  the  best  of  care  lavished  upon  them ;  that  is, 
he  was  thrown  with  mixed  company.  It  is  very 
hard,  however,  to  separate  the  sheep  from  the  goats, 
and  as  luck  would  have  it  Murphy's  lot  was  thrown 
with  Jim,  the  sailor  who  had  the  worst  reputation 
among  the  mates  of  any  man  aboard  the  ship. 

The  day  the  vessel  put  to  sea  the  skipper  mustered 
the  men  according  to  his  custom,  and  made  them  an 
address. 

"The  master,"  said  he,  "  air  greater  than  the  ser- 
vant, and  the  servant  ain't  above  the  master."  Here 
he  looked  straight  at  Jim.  "  So  saith  the  holy  gos- 
pel,— an'  whatsoever  saith  the  gospel  is  er  fact, — an' 
is  truth.  If  it  ain't,  I'll  make  it  so  if  I  have  to  take 
the  hide  off  every  burgoo-eating  son  of  a  sea-cook 
aboard  the  ship." 

There  were  many  men  aboard  there  who  had 
heard  little  of  the  Scriptures,  but  even  if  they  had 
heard  much  they  would  doubtless  not  have  cared  to 
discuss  them  or  any  other  matter  with  the  skipper. 
His  voice  rose  to  the  deep,  roaring  tone  of  the  hur- 
ricane on  all  occasions,  and  when  it  failed  to  convince 
the  listener  of  the  owner's  logic,  a  sudden  clap  from 
his  heavy  hand  generally  ended  verbal  matters  about 
as  effectively  as  a  stroke  of  lightning.  Most  of  the 
men  on  board  were  used  to  kicks  and  curses,  for  the 

236 


Murphy  of  the  Conemaugh 

skipper  reckoned  he  could  handle  any  class  of  men 
that  ever  trod  a  deck.  He  had  a  fair  sprinkling  of 
all  on  this  cruise.  As  the  mates  followed  the  skip- 
per's example  in  matters  of  discipline,  the  ship  was 
as  near  to  being  a  floating  hell  as  anything  above 
water  could  be. 

Jim  Murphy  resented  even  the  curses  of  the  cap- 
tain and  mates,  so  he  was  rated  among  the  after- 
guard as  the  worst  man  on  board.  His  friendship 
for  the  pig  was  against  him  in  the  forecastle,  and 
soon  even  the  men  of  the  starboard  watch  began  to 
hold  off  from  him. 

"What  d'ye  want  to  fool  with  that  porker  fer? 
Yell  never  get  er  taste  of  him,  hide  or  hair,"  growled 
old  Dan. 

"  He  ain't  the  only  pig  aboard  this  here  ship," 
answered  Jim,  "an*  I  like  him  better  than  most." 

"Kind  goes  with  kind,"  observed  the  second 
mate,  whenever  he  saw  them  together. 

Remarks  like  this  made  by  the  second  officer 
caused  great  amusement  to  the  men  of  the  starboard 
watch.  But  those  who  applauded  the  most  were 
old  Dan  and  his  chum  Bull  Davis.  These  two  wor- 
thies gave  Mr.  Tautline  to  understand  that  he  was 
the  wittiest  second  mate  afloat,  in  the  hope  that  he 
would  "pet"  them.  When  they  found  this  was  use- 
less, the  united  curses  of  the  whole  crew  were  weak 
in  expression  as  compared  to  the  audible  reflections 
of  this  worthy  pair. 

When  the  ship  reached  the  latitude  of  the  River 
Plate,  old  Dan  came  out  openly  for  mutiny.  He  told 

237 


The  Wind-jammers 


with  grim  coolness  and  great  detail  of  how  he  had 
taken  part  in  an  affair  of  this  kind  before.  How  he 
had  crawled  along  the  projecting  sheer-strake  out- 
side the  bulwarks  towards  the  quarter-deck,  while  a 
companion  had  done  likewise  on  the  side  opposite. 
How  they  had  made  the  sudden  rush  aft  and  had 
engaged  with  their  sheath-knives  against  the  revolv- 
ers of  the  after-guard.  A  little  more  nerve  in  a  few 
men  who  hung  back  and  the  ship  would  have  been 
taken. 

He  had  served  part  of  a  ten-years'  sentence  for 
this,  had  escaped,  and  had  been  continuously  afloat 
ever  since. 

Bull  Davis  was  an  escaped  convict  from  Australia, 
and  he  seconded  the  old  villain's  project  in  every 
detail. 

One  day,  off  the  Horn,  Dan  was  careless  in  mod- 
ulating his  voice  when  the  second  mate  gave  an 
order.  The  next  instant  he  was  sprawling  in  the 
lee-scuppers  and  the  second  mate  was  addressing 
him  coolly. 

"Don't  make  no  remarks  about  the  weather  in 
my  watch.  It's  a  square  wind,  so  up  you  go  on 
that  yard  now  a  little  quicker* n  greased  lightning." 

The  devil  was  peeping  from  the  old  villain's  eyes 
as  he  gained  the  ratlines,  but  he  said  nothing. 

When  the  ship  ran  into  the  sou|Jieast  trade-wind, 
Murphy,  the  pig,  was  turned  out  on  the  deck  to 
root  at  the  seams.  He  would  start  down  the  gang- 
ways suddenly,  without  apparent  reason,  and  go 
rushing  along  the  water-ways  at  full  speed,  punctu- 

238 


Murphy  of  the  Conemaugh 

ating  his  squeals  with  deep  "houghs"  that  would 
have  done  credit  to  a  bear.  On  these  occasions 
Jim,  the  sailor,  was  perfectly  happy.  He  would 
call  the  little  fellow  to  him  and  the  pig  would  follow 
him  like  a  dog. 

"  He  is  a  cute  little  baste,  an'  he  makes  me  home- 
sick," Jim  would  say,  and  the  mates  and  men  would 
rail  and  curse  at  him  for  it.  The  only  living  thing 
on  board  the  ship  that  was  in  sympathy  with  them 
was  the  blasphemous  green  parrot  belonging  to  the 
carpenter.  This  bird  would  pray  and  curse  in  the 
same  breath,  and  whenever  Jim  came  near  the  galley 
would  call  out  "pig,"  "pig,"  in  a  high  key.  Then 
it  would  curse  him  and  pray  for  his  soul. 

One  night  Jim  noticed  that  old  Dan  sat  up  late, 
sharpening  his  knife  on  a  piece  of  holy-stone.  Just 
before  his  watch  turned  out  at  midnight  he  awoke, 
and  found  that  neither  Dan  nor  Bull  Davis  were  in 
the  forecastle.  He  went  on  deck  and  walked  aft, 
waiting  for  the  bells  to  strike. 

In  a  moment  Davis  appeared,  coming  out  of  the 
cabin  with  Mr.  Tautline. 

"There's  something  wrong  with  the  port  back- 
stay in  the  fore-riggin',"  said  the  sailor  to  the  mate. 

"What's  that?"  asked  Tautline. 

"The  lug-bolt  in  the  lee  fore-riggin'  is  busted. 
You  had  better  take  a  look  at  it  afore  away  goes 
the  backstay,"  said  Davis. 

"All  right.  Wait  here  till  I  get  a  pipe  o'  to- 
bacco, and  we'll  look  at  it" 

Jim  hurried  forward.     He  looked  over   the  rail* 


The  Wind- Jammers 


and  peered  into  the  blackness  alongside.  The  phos- 
phorus flared  in  a  ghostly  manner  as  the  water  rolled 
lazily  from  the  vessel's  side,  but  everything  appeared 
all  right. 

Suddenly  a  gleaming  bit  of  something  shot  up- 
ward. He  started  back  quickly,  and  a  hand  hold- 
ing a  knife  struck  savagely  at  his  chest.  The  blade 
ripped  his  shirt  from  neck  to  waist,  but  did  not 
wound  him.  The  next  instant  old  Dan  arose  from 
the  channels  and  climbed  over  the  rail  to  the  deck. 

"The  wrong  man,  ye  murtherin'  villain,"  growled 
Jim. 

"So  it  was,  messmate,"  said  Dan,  coolly. 

"What's  the  row?"  asked  Tautline,  coming  up  to 
where  the  men  stood.  He  saw  something  was  wrong, 
but  had  not  seen  Dan  come  over  the  side. 

"That  busted  dead-eye,"  answered  Dan.  "I  was 
just  lookin'  at  it" 

"  Well,  get  out  before  I  put  a  couple  of  dead-eyes 
in  your  ugly  figgerhead.  Slant  away  !"  And  Dan 
slunk  around  the  corner  of  the  deck-house. 

As  the  good  weather  held,  the  galley  cat  came  out 
of  hiding  and  sunned  herself  in  the  lee  of  the  galley 
during  the  warm  part  of  the  day. 

Jim  saw  her  and  tried  to  make  friends. 

"Keetie,  keetie, — nice  leetle  keetie,"  said  h«, 
trying  to,  stroke  the  brute  on  the  head.  But  long 
confinement  had  told  on  Maria's  liver,  and  she 
reached  out  and  drew  several  long,  bloody  lines  on 
the  sailor's  hand. 

"Ye  infernal  shnake  !"  cried  Jim;  and  he  aimed  a 
240 


Murphy  of  the  Conemaugh 

blow  at  the  animal  that  would  have  knocked  it  clear 
across  the  equator  had  it  not  jumped  nimbly  to  one 
side.  His  hand  brought  up  against  the  galley  with 
a  loud  bang. 

"  Let  that  cat  alone.  What  d'  ye  mean  by  trying 
to  spoil  a  dumb  brute's  temper?"  roared  the  voice 
of  Tautline,  and  his  form  came  lurching  down  the 
weather  gangway. 

"Don't  strike  me  !"  cried  Jim,  as  they  closed. 

The  belaying-pin  in  Tautline's  hand  came  down 
with  a  sickening  crack  on  the  sailor's  skull. 

"Stop  !"  he  cried  again. 

But  Tautline  was  carried  away  by  his  passion  and 
they  went  to  the  deck  together. 

It  was  all  over  in  a  moment.  Tautline  lay  gasp- 
ing in  a  red  pool  and  Jim  sat  up,  sheath-knife  in 
hand,  staring  about  him  in  a  dazed  manner.  Then 
the  captain  and  mate  rushed  up. 

"  Handcuff  him  !  Put  him  in  double  irons  !"  cried 
the  skipper,  stretching  Jim  with  a  heavy  blow. 

The  next  day  little  Murphy  ran  up  and  down  the 
deck.  The  ports  over  the  water-ways  had  been 
knocked  out  as  the  ship  was  very  deep;  they  had 
not  been  nailed  in  again.  Murphy  came  to  where 
Jim  was  lying  in  irons  under  the  top-gallant-fore- 
castle. He  sniffed  his  bloody  clothes  and  ran  away 
with  a  squeal.  The  sailor  called  after  him,  but  he 
did  not  stop  until  he  reached  the  open  port  in  the 
waist.  Then  he  sniffed  at  the  ominous  stain  on  the 
bright  deck  planks  and  poked  his  head  through  the 
open  port 

16  241 


X 

The  Wind-jammers 

"  Blood  !  Blood  !  Blood  !"  screamed  the  parrot 
in  the  galley. 

Murphy  started,  slipped,  and  was  gone.  The 
cook  rushed  to  the  side,  bawling  out  something 
that  sounded  like  "man  overboard,"  and  the  noise 
brought  the  starboard  watch  on  deck  with  a  rush. 

"That  bloomin'  old  pig,"  growled  Dan,  looking 
over  the  rail. 

There  he  was,  sure  enough,  swimming  wildly  and 
striking  himself  under  the  jowl  with  every  stroke. 

The  captain  watched  his  pig  drifting  slowly  astern 
for  a  moment  Then  he  turned  to  the  mate.  "All 
hands  wear  ship !"  he  bawled,  and  the  men  rushed  to 
the  braces. 

"  Mr.  Enlis,"  said  the  skipper,  "  you  go  aloft  and 
keep  the  critter  in  sight  Take  my  glass  with  you." 

The  ship  was  heavy,  so  before  she  could  be  wore 
around  the  little  pig  was  lost  in  the  blue  waste  of 
sparkling  waters. 

The  mate  came  down  from  the  ratlines  with  the 
glass  and  a  smile  which  peculiarly  emphasized  the 
singleness  of  a  solitary  tooth.  He  did  not  like 
portc. 

The  skipper  walked  the  quarter-deck  and  mused 
with  his  chin  in  his  hand. 

"That's  too  bad.  Too  bad.  Too  bad,"  said  he. 
"I  paid  two  dollars  for  that  pig."  And  his  voice 
was  as  mournful  as  the  sound  of  the  sea  washing 
through  the  ribs  of  a  lost  ship. 

"  Poor  little  pig,"  muttered  Jim,  and  he  tried  to 
look  astern  from  his  place  under  the  top-gallant-fore- 

242 


Murphy  of  the  Conemaugh 

castle.  "Poor  little  pig  !"  And  the  tears  ran  down 
his  dirty,  sun-bronzed  face. 

"Wonder!"  cried  Dan,  coming  forward;  "there's 
a  murderer  for  you.  Crying  over  an  old  pig  he 
won't  get  a  taste  of,  hide  nor  hair." 

"It's  all  that  young  devil's  fault,"  mused  the  skip- 
per. "  The  master  is  above  the  servant  an'  the  ser- 
vant ain't  the  master's  equal.  So  says  the  Holy 
Scriptures.  When  a  man  takes  up  with  them  what 
is  below  him,  he  is  gone  wrong.  That's  Jim  with  the 
pig.  Yes,  sir,  the  Scriptures  say  them  very  words 
somewhere, — I  can't  call  to  mind  exactly  where, — 
but  they  are  so.  If  they  ain't  I'll  make  them  so, 
and  I'll  hang  that  Irish  dog  when  I  get  him  to 
'Frisco."  And  he  did. 


243 


MY  PIRATE 


WE  were   sitting   in   old    Professor   Frisbow's 
room    in   the   West    Coast    Museum,    and 
our   host   had    been   listening  to   accounts 
of  wonderful  adventures  on  deep-water.     Each  had 
spoken,   and    it   was    Frisbow's    turn.     We   settled 
ourselves  comfortably,  and  he  began  : 
,        "  Few  people  remember  the  old  town  of  St  Au- 
Vgustine  as  it  was  before  the  war,  with  its  old  coquina 
houses  and  flat,  unpaved  streets,  that  abounded  with 
sand-fleas  in  dry  weather  and  turned  into  swamps 
of  mud  and  sand  when  it  rained.     Those  who  can 
look  so  far  back  through  life's  vista  will  remember 
its  peculiar  inhabitants. 

"  The  Southern  negro,  sleeping  in  the  hot  sunshine 
on  the  plaza,  or  loafing  about  the  sea-wall  talking 
to  the  white  'cracker/  was,  of  course,  the  most 
numerous ;  but  there  were  also  the  Spaniards  and 
Minorcans,  who  married  and  intermarried  among 
themselves,  that  made  up  a  large  part  of  the 
population. 

"St.  Augustine  was  not  a  thriving  town.  Its 
business  could  be  seen  almost  any  morning  quite 
early,  when  a  few  long,  narrow,  dugout  canoes, 
with  a  swarthy  Minorcan  rowing  on  one  side,  and  a 
companion  sitting  aft  paddling  on  the  other,  would 
come  around  the  '  Devil's  Elbow'  in  the  Matanzas 

River,  and  glide  swiftly  and  silently  up  to  a  break 

244 


My  Pirate 


in  the  sea-wail  and  deposit  their  loads  of  mullet  or 
whiting.  Then  the  canoes  would  disappear  with 
their  owners,  after  a  little  haggling  had  been  indulged 
^.n  between  the  latter  and  the  purchasers  of  the  fish, 
and  the  quiet  of  the  long,  hot  day  would  begin. 

"  It  is  astonishing  how  lazy  one  may  become  under 
the  influence  of  that  blue,  semi-tropical  sky,  with 
the  warm,  gentle  breeze  from  the  southern  ocean 
rippling  the  clear,  green  waters  of  the  bay.  Life 
seems  a  bright  dream,  and  any  unwonted  exertion 
causes  a  jar  to  the  nerves  such  as  one  feels  when 
rudely  awakened  from  a  sound,  pleasant  sleep. 
During  the  daytime  in  summer  no  one  but  the  negro 
and  a  few  long-haired  Minorcans  would  tempt  the 
torrid  sunshine  ;  and  even  I,  with  my  passion  for 
sport,  would  seldom  show  my  pith  helmet  to  the 
sun  during  July  and  August. 

"  The  inlets  and  rivers  along  the  coast  of  Florida 
abound  with  all  kinds  of  fish,  from  the  little  mullet 
to  the  mighty  tarpon  ;  and  many  a  day's  sport  have 
I  had  with  them  in  either  canoe  or  surf  along  that 
sandy  coast. 

"  For  a  guide  I  often  had  an  old  Spaniard  called 
'  Alvarez.'  This  old  man  lived  alone  in  a  coquina 
house  of  rather  large  size,  and  affected  the  airs  and 
manners  of  a  grandee.  He  associated  with  no  one, 
and  no  one  seemed  to  know  anything  about  him, 
except  that  he  came  there  on  a  schooner  from  the 
West  Indies  years  ago,  being  then  an  old  man.  He 
had  bought  this  house,  and  had  continued  to  live 
there  without  any  visible  means  of  support  other 

245 


The  Wind-jammers 


than  the  fish  he  caught  He  always  went  to  the 
st£re  opposite  the  plaza,  at  the  end  of  every  month, 
and  paid  cash  in  Spanish  or  American  gold  and 
silver  for  his  frugal  supplies. 

"I  had  been  out  'gator-shooting,  and  was  returning 
home  after  two  days'  sport  with  a  few  good  skins, 
when,  on  turning  the  last  bend  in  South  River  about 
twenty  miles  from  St.  Augustine,  I  came  suddenly 
upon  an  old  man  in  a  dugout  canoe  fishing.  He 
had  just  hooked  a  large  bass,  and  I  started  the  sheet 
of  my  sharpie  to  stop  its  headway,  and  waited  until 
he  landed  him.  I  then  sailed  up  alongside  of  the 
canoe,  intending  to  buy  the  fish  and  take  it  home 
with  me,  thinking,  of  course,  that  the  old  man  would 
be  glad  to  sell  it.  What  was  my  surprise  when  he 
informed  me  politely  that  he  did  not  care  to  sell  it, 
though  he  had  a  score  or  two  in  the  bottom  of  his 
canoe.  This  from  an  old  long-haired  Spaniard  who 
seemed  in  the  depths  of  poverty  excited  my  curi- 
osity, and  I  endeavored  to  start  a  conversation  with 
him  about  the  different  fishing  *  drops'  in  the  locality. 
He  eyed  me  suspiciously  at  first,  and  finally  answered 
my  questions  with  an  ease  that  puzzled  me  greatly. 

"There  was  one  particular  place,  or  'drop,'  for 
catching  drum-fish  down  the  South  River  of  which  I 
had  often  heard  but  could  never  find,  so  I  ventured 
upon  this  subject  to  the  stranger.  To  my  great 
surprise  he  offered  to  accompany  me  to  it  any  time 
that  I  should  find  it  convenient,  telling  me  at  the 
same  time  that  he  lived  in  St  Augustine,  and  that 
I  would  probably  find  him  there  the  next  day.  I 


My  Pirate 


thanked  him,  and,  letting  go,  squared  away  before 
the  southeast  breeze  and  soon  left  him  out  of  sight 

"  The  next  day  I  was  walking  along  the  sea-wall 
smoking  my  pipe  and  thinking  of  this  peculiar  old 
fisherman  with  his  mahogany-colored  face  and  bright 
eye,  wondering  if  I  could  get  him  to  pilot  me  on  an 
expedition  to  the  southward.  I  had  a  rambling 
idea  of  spending  several  weeks  in  fishing  down  the 
Indian  River,  and  I  wanted  some  one  to  pilot  me 
who  knew  the  way  through  the  inland  passages. 
While  I  was  trying  to  form  some  plan  of  this  in- 
tended trip  I  saw  a  canoe  come  around  the  bend 
in  the  Matanzas,  and,  on  its  approaching  nearer,  I 
recognized  the  old  man  whom  I  had  met  the  day 
before.  I  went  up  to  him  as  he  landed  at  the  break 
in  the  sea-wall  and  asked  him  what  luck  he  had  had 
fishing.  For  a  reply  he  showed  me  as  fine  a  catch 
of  red  bass  as  I  had  ever  seen,  at  the  same  time 
offering  me  a  couple  as  a  present.  I  took  them  ; 
and  after  he  had  tied  his  boat  to  a  ring  in  the  wall, 
he  joined  me  and  walked  part  of  the  way  home  with 
me. 

"  On  our  way  I  asked  him  if  he  had  ever  been 
through  the  passages  to  the  Indian  River,  and  he 
smiled  as  he  answered  '  yes.'  I  then  asked  him  if 
he  would  guide  me  through  on  a  trip  that  I  intended 
to  make.  He  was  silent  for  some  moments,  and 
finally  said  he  would,  provided  there  was  no  party 
going  along  with  me.  I  then  left  him  ;  and  after 
going  home  with  my  fish  I  went  around  to  see  my 
friend  the  sheriff,  to  find  out  more  about  him.  I 

247 


The  Wind-jammers 


was  told  that  he  was  a  peaceable  old  fellow,  and  as 
he  fished  a  great  deal  he  probably  knew  all  the  best 
places  for  miles  around,  that  his  name  was  Alvarez, 
»»  and  that  he  was  a  reliable  man  as  far  as  any  one 
knew. 

"  About  a  week  after  this  we  started  out  one  fine 
?day  bound  south.  Although  Alvarez  was  an  absent- 
minded  old  fellow,  and  in  spite  of  his  peculiar  man- 
ner, so  different  from  the  common  class  of  dirty, 
poverty-stricken  Spaniards,  we  got  along  together 
splendidly.  I  was  never  a  great  talker,  especially 
when  hunting  or  fishing,  and  the  dearth  of  conver- 
sation on  this  trip  was  one  of  the  most  enjoyable 
features  of  it.  Old  .Alvarez  and  I  became  quite 
good  friends  after  this  expedition,  and  I  often  used 
to  question  him  about  himself  and  his  affairs.  As 
long  as  the  conversation  related  to  his  life  in  the 
town  he  would  talk  readily  enough,  but  anything  re- 
garding his  birth  or  former  life  he  always  avoided, 
merely  saying  that  he  ran  away  to  sea  when  quite 
young,  and  that  was  all  that  could  be  drawn  from 
him. 

"  My  fancy  often  pictured  him  a  pirate  or  '  beach- 
comber,' and,  in  fact,  there  was  a  rumor  to  that 
effect  in  the  town.  People  said  that  he  had  treas- 
ures buried  along  the  shore  somewhere  on  Anas- 
tasia  Island  ;  and  that  if  he  chose  to  talk,  more  than 
one  vessel  that  had  cleared  Cuban  ports  and  had 
never  been  heard  from  could  be  accounted  foi\ 
This  was  mere  idle  gossip  and  amounted  to  noth 
ing,  but  once  somebody  had  seen  his  canoe  at  mid- 
248 


My  Pirate 


night  hauled  up  on  the  sand  on  a  narrow  part  of  the 
island  some  ten  miles  below  the  town. 

"  Sailing  by,  they  had  seen  Alvarez  walking  up 
and  down  the  beach  with  his  head  bowed  forward  as 
if  looking  for  something.  It  was  not  the  season  for 
turtles'  eggs,  so  it  was  hard  to  imagine  what  he  was 
looking  for  in  the  soft  yellow  sand.  People,  how- 
ever, did  not  like  to  inquire  too  closely  into  his 
affairs,  for  when  he  was  annoyed  his  face  assumed 
such  a  sinister  expression  that  it  boded  no  good  for 
those  who  were  inclined  to  chaff  him. 

"  One  night  a  negro  ruffian  and  a  Minorcan  forced 
an  entrance  into  his  house  with  the  evident  intention 
of  securing  his  imagined  treasure.  The  next  morn- 
ing Alvarez  came  out  and  told  the  sheriff  that  there 
were  two  dead  men  in  his  house  that  he  would  like 
to  have  removed.  The  sheriff,  who  was  a  Spaniard, 
came  around,  and  there,  sure  enough,  lay  both  ;  one 
shot  through  the  neck  and  the  other  through  the 
head,  while  two  immense  old-fashioned  pistols  lay 
empty  on  a  table  in  his  room.  There  were  no  signs 
of  a  struggle  except  a  long  smear  of  blood  from 
his  room  to  the  hall  where  the  body  of  the  negro 
lay.  He  was  easily  aquitted,  and  afterwards  became 
more  stoical  than  ever,  but  he  was  never  disturbed 
again. 

"  Although  these  things  happened  long  before  I 
knew  him,  I  did  not  hear  of  them  until  some  time 
afterwards,  and  I've  often  wondered  since  what  made 
the  old  fellow  take  such  a  fancy  to  me. 

"Alvarez  and  I  used  to  shoot  pelicans  together. 
249 


The  Wind-jammers 


We  would  go  down  the  river  to  a  narrow  part  of  the 
island  and  then  cross  over  to  the  front  beach.  I 
had  always  remembered  this  place  on  account  of  a 
bunch  of  tall  palmettoes  that  grew  on  the  outside 
of  the  island  and  towered  above  the  low  bunches  of 
scrub-oak.  A  more  lonely  spot  it  would  be  hard  to 
find  even  in  that  wild  country.  Here  we  would 
make  a  blind  for  the  night,  and  shoot  the  birds  as 
they  came  in  on  the  beach  to  roost  among  the  sand- 
dunes.  By  the  light  of  a  full  moon  fair  sport  could 
be  had  in  this  way,  and  often  we  would  secure  a  fine 
bird  with  long  pencilled  feathers. 

"  One  night  after  shooting  several  birds  we  turned 
in  on  the  sand,  intending  to  spend  the  rest  of  the 
night  there,  as  there  was  no  wind.  I  awoke  during 
the  night,  and,  looking  around,  found  that  Alvarez 
had  disappeared.  I  looked  across  the  sand-spit  and 
saw  the  boat  all  right,  so  I  wondered  where  he  could 
have  gone.  I  arose,  and,  shaking  the  sand  from  my 
clothes,  followed  his  tracks,  which  were  plainly  visi- 
ble down  the  beach  towards  the  clump  of  palmettoes 
that  stood  out  sharply  against  the  moonlit  sky.  On 
nearing  them  I  saw  a  figure  sitting  on  the  sand  un- 
der the  largest  tree,  and  on  getting  closer  I  saw  that 
it  was  Alvarez  with  his  head  bowed  forward  on  his 
arms,  which  rested  on  his  knees.  He  started  up  sud- 
denly on  hearing  me  approach,  and  asked,  sharply, — 

"  *  How  long  have, you  been  here  ?' 

"  His  voice  sounded  so  different  from  what  I  had 
been  accustomed  to  that  I  was  quite  startled,  and 
stood  looking  at  him  for  some  moments  wondering 

250 


My  Pirate 


if  he  had  gone  mad.  He  returned  my  gaze  steadily 
and  gave  me  a  most  searching  look.  I  finally  an- 
swered that  I  had  come  to  look  for  him ;  at  the 
same  time  I  wondered  what  he  meant  and  tried  to 
curb  my  rising  temper.  His  fixed  look  relaxed  and 
he  turned  his  head  slightly.  I  followed  his  glance, 
and  saw  that  he  was  looking  at  the  ground  near  the 
foot  of  one  of  the  palmettoes.  The  sand  about  the 
roots  was  much  disturbed,  as  if  he  had  been  digging 
for  something. 

"'Alvarez,'  said  I,  'what  have  you  been  hunting 
for,  and  what  do  you  mean  by  asking  how  long  I've 

en  watching  you  ?' 

"  He  remained  silent  for  some  moments,  then 
rising,  he  placed  his  hand  on  my  shoulder  :  '  That's 
all  right,  Mr.  Frisbow,'  he  said.  '  I  have  these  night- 
mare fits  on  me  once  in  a  while.' 

"'Well,'  I  answered.  'It's  a  strange  sort  of 
nightmare  that  makes  one  go  rooting  around  in  the 
sand  like  a  hog.' 

"  He  looked  at  me  again  with  that  curious  ex- 
pression, and  then  said,  slowly, — 

" '  I  was  a  young  man  when  I  first  came  onto  the 
Florida  reef,  and  there's  many  things  happened  about 
here  and  Barrataria  before  you  was  born.  Some  day 
I'll  talk  with  you  about  old  times,  but  not  to-night 
It's  late.  We  go  to  sleep.' 

"  '  No,'  said  I,  '  tell  me  what  you  mean.  There's 
plenty  of  time  for  sleep,  and,  besides,  it's  too  hot, 
anyhow.' 

" '  Well/  said  he,  '  there's  just  one  thing  I  think 
251 


The  Wind-jammers 


about  every  time  I  come  to  this  spot,  and  that  is  the 
fight  which  took  place  a  couple  of  miles  off  shore, 
abreast  this  clump  of  palmettoes.' 

'"What  kind  of  fight?'  I  asked.  'I  never  heard 
of  any  fight  taking  place  off  here.' 

"  He  looked  at  me  sharply,  and  I  fancied  the 
hard  lines  in  his  weather-beaten  face  relaxed  into 
the  faintest  suspicion  of  a  smile. 

"  '  Quite  likely  not,'  he  answered,  '  but  there  was 
one  off  here  a  long  time  ago.  It  isn't  likely  many 
people  remember  much  about  it,  for  the  men  who 
took  part  in  it  probably  died  years  ago.  It  was 
between  two  schooners. 

"  'There  was  one  that  carried  fruit  from  Havana, 
and  she  started  down  the  coast  one  night  from  St. 
Augustine,  homeward  bound,  but  without  any  lights. 
This  was  probably  an  oversight,  or,  perhaps,  a  desire 
on  the  part  of  her  skipper  to  save  oil. 

"  '  There  was  another  schooner  coming  up  the 
coast  that  evening,  and  she  didn't  have  any  lights 
because  she  was  all  the  way  from  the  Guinea  Coast 
loaded  with  ebony.' 

" '  I  don't  see  why  a  vessel  carrying  ebony 
shouldn't  carry  lights,'  I  interrupted. 

"Old  Alvarez's  face  showed  a  net- work  of  lines 
and  wrinkles  and  the  stumps  of  his  yellow  teeth 
shone  bright  in  the  moonlight. 

"  'There  isn't  any  real  reason  why  they  shouldn't,' 
said  he  ;  'but  there  used  to  be  a  prejudice  against 
the  trade.  As  for  me,  I  don't  see  why  people  con- 
sidered it  in  such  a  bad  light,  for  shipping  the  article 

252 


My  Pirate 


not  only  paid  the  owners  but  improved  the  ebony — 
after  they  got  it  ashore.' 

"  '  I  see/  I  answered  ;  *  the  ebony  was  alive,  then, 
and  in  the  form  of  men  and  women. ' 

"  'Most  likely,'  he  replied,  'though  they  do  say 
that  life  in  a  ship's  hold  is  not  uncoupled  with  death, 
especially  when  a  vessel  gets  caught  in  the  hot 
calms  outside  the  Guinea  Gulf.  Anyhow,  the  vessel 
had  no  lights  and  was  crowding  along  with  every 
rag  on  her. 

" '  The  first  thing  anybody  on  board  knew  of  the 
whereabouts  of  the  fruit  schooner  was  the  crash  of 
her  bowsprit  poking  into  the  fore-rigging  and  knock- 
ing the  foremast  out  of  the  Guinea  trader.  Then 
she  ranged  alongside,  all  fast,  with  her  head-gear 
tangled  in  the  wreck. 

" '  There  were  a  great  many  men  on  the  vessel 
carrying  the  ebony,  and  in  a  few  minutes  they 
swarmed  on  deck  with  muskets  and  cutlasses.  As 
soon  as  they  found  the  fellow  was  a  fruit  schooner 
they  started  to  cut  her  adrift,  cursing  the  captain 
and  crew  for  the  damage. 

"  '  Everything  might  have  gone  well  and  the  ves- 
sels separated  but  for  the  fact  that  the  passengers 
on  board  were  two  officers  and  their  families  bound 
for  Havana.  These  two  men  came  on  deck  in  uni- 
form, and  in  less  than  a  minute  the  men  saw  them. 
To  let  them  go  meant  certain  death  to  all  hands  on 
the  ebony  schooner,  so  they  started  over  the  rail 
after  them. ' 

"  Here  Alvarez  became  suddenly  silent  for  a  few 
253 


The  Wind-jammers 


moments,  and  his  eyes  wandered  towards  the  trees, 
as  if  expecting  to  see  some  one.  Then,  facing  me 
again,  he  continued  : 

" '  They  made  a  terrible  fight,  they  say,  cutting 
down  half  a  dozen  men  as  they  crowded  aft.  The 
captain  and  crew  of  the  schooner  were  soon  tied  up, 
and  the  men  rushed  onto  the  quarter-deck  to  take 
the  officers  at  any  cost.  It  was  all  over  in  a  minute, 
and  the  two  wives  and  a  beautiful  girl  were  carried 
on  board  the  ebony  schooner.  The  men  were  so 
worked  up  that  a  plank  was  rigged  from  the  weather- 
rail  and  the  lashings  cast  off  from  the  feet  of  the 
prisoners.  One  by  one  they  walked  to  their  death 
along  that  narrow  strip  of  wood  with  their  eyes 
bandaged  and  elbows  lashed  fast  behind  them — and 
that  was  all. ' 

"  He  remained  silent  for  some  moments  after  this, 
and  again  looked  sharply  at  the  clump  of  palmettoes. 

"  'But,  Alvarez,'  I  said,  "what  became  of  the  two 
women  and  the  beautiful  young  girl?' 

"  '  I  never  heard/  he  answered,  dryly,  and  started 
to  walk  slowly  back  to  the  blind. 

"'Did  they  ever  catch  the  ebony  schooner?'  I 
ventured  again. 

"  '  I  don't  know,'  he  replied,  shortly,  and,  as  I 
saw  he  would  talk  no  more,  I  kept  silent 

"  After  walking  up  and  down  the  beach  trying  to 
get  cool,  we  finally  laid  down  under  the  trees  and 
slept  until  daybreak.  Then  we  started  home.  On 
the  way  back  we  were  becalmed,  and  having  drunk 
up  all  the  water,  we  drifted  along  under  a  scorching 

254 


My  Pirate 


sun  with  our  mouths  too  dry  to  open.  As  I  lay  on 
my  back  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  I  could  not  help 
thinking  of  the  stories  about  this  old  man,  and  it 
suddenly  flashed  upon  me  that  he  had  been  seen 
near  those  same  palmettoes  before. 

"  I  vaguely  wondered  if  he  had  been  a  pirate  and 
had  buried  his  ill-gotten  money  under  those  trees  on 
that  lonely  shore.  There  he  sat  in  the  stern-sheets, 
his  grizzled  hair  shining  in  the  bright  sunlight  under 
his  old  slouch  hat,  and  his  small  gray  eyes  looking 
seaward  for  the  first  cat's-paw  of  the  coming  morning 
breeze.  His  skin,  tanned  to  leather  from  long  ex- 
posure to  the  weather,  made  him  as  impervious  to 
the  sun's  rays  as  a  negro.  But  in  spite  of  this  his 
features  were  as  clearly  cut  and  as  strongly  marked 
as  those  of  a  Don  of  bluest  blood  Altogether  he 
was  not  a  bad  looking  old  man,  even  with  his  slightly 
hooked  nose  and  too  firm  mouth. 

"  I  soon  fell  asleep  and  dreamed  of  rich  galleons 
fighting  huge  canoes  full  of  grizzled  pirates,  armed 
to  the  teeth,  who  squinted  carefully  along  their  old 
muskets  and  fired  with  loud  yells.  I  suddenly  awoke 
to  find  Alvarez  calling  to  me  to  sit  to  windward,  as 
we  were  heeling  over  and  rushing  along  through  the 
water  before  the  sea-breeze  only  a  few  miles  from 
town. 

"The  next  day  we  started  out  bass-fishing  in  the 
surf  on  the  outer  beach.  A  rod  and  reel  would 
have  been  considered  strange  instruments  in  those 
days  down  there.  We  used  to  take  our  hand-lines, 
which  were  very  long,  and,  coiling  them  carefully, 

255 


The  Wind-jammers 


would  wade  out  to  our  armpits.  Then  swinging  the 
heavy  sinkers  about  our  heads  until  they  acquired 
sufficient  velocity,  we  would  send  them  flying  out 
beyond  the  first  line  of  breakers,  and  paying  out  line, 
would  wade  back  <k>  the  beach.  Sharks  abounded, 
and  often  we  lost  our  gear  when  they  took  a  fancy 
to  our  baits.  We  never  feared  their  attacking  us,  as 
the  waters  abounded  with  fish,  and  in  such  places 
they  seldom  if  ever  attack  a  man. 

"  One  day  after  some  good  sport  Alvarez  seemed 
tired,  and  instead  of  holding  the  end  of  his  line 
in  his  hand  he  tied  it  around  his  waist.  I  noticed 
this  and  was  about  to  call  his  attention  to  the  danger 
of  it,  when  I  hooked  a  huge  bass  and  was  kept  busy 
playing  it  for  some  time.  The  lines  we  used  were 
about  the  size  of  the  cod-lines  used  in  the  North, 
and  capable  of  holding  a  strain  of  nearly  two  hun- 
dred pounds,  while  the  hooks  were  like  the  drum 
hooks  now  used.  While  I  was  playing  my  fish  my 
line,  which  was  old,  parted  near  the  end,  and  I 
hauled  it  in  to  fit  a  new  hook  and  sinker.  During 
the  time  I  was  thus  engaged  Alvarez  had  waded  out 
up  to  his  shoulders  in  the  surf  and  had  cast  his  line 
into  deep  water.  He  then  started  to  wade  slowly 
back  towards  the  shore.  Before  he  had  made  a 
dozen  steps  I  saw  him  suddenly  reach  for  his  line. 

"Three  heavy  breakers  had  just  rolled  in,  fol- 
lowed by  a  comparatively  smooth  spell  that  lasted 
for  a  few  moments.  I  stopped  working  at  my  line 
and  watched  him,  for  I  knew  he  must  have  had  a 
good  bite.  Suddenly  I  saw  him  throw  his  whole 

256 


My  Pirate 


weight  on  the  line,  but  in  spite  of  this  go  slowly 
forward.  He  was  now  in  water  so  deep  that  he  had 
to  jump  up  every  time  the  swell  came  to  keep  his 
head  out  of  the  foam.  In  a  moment  I  turned,  and 
as  I  caught  the  expression  of  his  face  I  knew  what 
had  happened.  That  face  I've  often  seen  since  in 
my  dreams,  and  I  will  never  forget  the  expression  of 
sudden  fear  that  filled  it. 

"  He  had  gone  out  so  far  that  he  could  not  get  a 
good  foothold  ;  a  shark  had  seized  his  bait  and  was 
making  slowly  out  to  sea.  He  called  my  name  and 
beckoned  me  to  come  and  help  him.  With  trem- 
bling fingers  I  finished  knotting  the  sinker  to  my  line 
and  rushed  headlong  with  it  down  the  beach.  Water 
is  a  yielding  fluid,  but  all  who  have  tried  know  what 
tremendous  exertion  is  required  to  make  speed 
through  it  when  in  above  the  knees.  When  I  was 
close  enough  I  swung  my  sinker  over  my  head  and 
sent  it  whizzing  straight  and  true  towards  the  old 
man,  who  was  now  out  to  the  first  line  of  breakers, 
and  swimming,  though  steadily  moving  outward. 

"  I  flung  the  lead  towards  him,  and  he  would  have 
caught  the  line,  but  at  that  instant  a  huge  sea  broke 
right  over  him  and  he  disappeared  in  the  smothering 
foam.  When  he  reappeared  he  was  beyond  reach 
and  going  steadily  seaward.  With  a  sickening  feel- 
ing I  hauled  in  the  line  and  plunged  into  the  surf  to 
swim  out  to  him.  I  made  good  headway  until  I 
reached  the  first  line  of  curling  water,  when  a  heavy 
breaker  fell  over  me  and  swept  me  back  a  hundred 
feet  from  where  I  started.  Standing  there  in  the 
17  257 


The  Wind-jammers 


surf,  with  the  bright  sun  shining,  I  saw  old  Alvarez 
passing  slowly  out  to  sea  to  disappear  forever.  I 
tried  to  think  what  to  do.  He  evidently  could  not 
break  the  line.  It  was  impossible  to  untie  it  with 
the  strain  on  it,  and  he  being  only  half  dressed  had 
left  his  knife  ashore. 

"  I  thought  of  our  boat  which  was  on  the  lee  side 
of  the  island,  and  knew  that  it  would  take  a  couple 
of  hours  to  get  around  the  point  However,  it 
seemed  the  only  thing  to  do,  so  I  made  my  way 
ashore  and  started  across  the  island  as  fast  as  possi- 
ble. Just  before  entering  the  woods  I  looked  sea- 
ward, and  there  on  the  breast  of  a  long  swell,  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  off,  was  Alvarez,  swimming  stead- 
ily with  his  face  turned  towards  the  beach. 

"  In  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  I  reached  the 
boat,  hoisted  the  sail,  and  shoved  off  There  was 
hardly  any  wind  on  the  lee  side  of  the  island,  so  I 
put  out  an  oar  and  sculled  until  the  perspiration 
poured  down  my  face  and  my  heart  seemed  as 
though  it  would  burst.  In  spite  of  this  I  made  but 
little  headway,  and  finally  had  to  give  it  up  ex- 
hausted. It  was  about  two  in  the  afternoon  when  I 
started,  and  it  was  after  three  before  I  cleared  the 
point  and  got  wind  enough  to  get  to  sea.  I  came 
around  on  the  sea  side  of  the  island  and  close 
enough  in  to  see  our  coats  on  the  beach,  but  of 
Alvarez  there  was  not  a  trace. 

"  I  headed  out  to  sea  in  the  direction  that  he  was 
going  when  I  saw  him  last,  and  searched  about  until 
dark,  when  I  gave  it  up  as  hopeless.  It  was  late 

-53 


My  Pirate 


when  I  arrived  in  the  town  that  night,  so  I  waited 
until  morning  before  I  reported  the  accident. 

"  The  sheriff  searched  the  house  in  which  the  old 
man  lived,  but  nothing  was  found  except  an  old 
sea-chest  filled  with  clothes,  some  of  which  appeared 
to  be  Spanish  uniforms,  but  very  dilapidated.  No 
money  was  found  in  the  house  except  a  few  Spanish 
gold  coins,  and  these  were  in  the  room  that  he  oc- 
cupied as  a  bedroom. 

"  For  months  afterwards  I  kept  thinking  of  Alvarez 
and  his  tragic  end.  Although  I  felt  very  sorry  for 
him,  I  could  not  help  wondering  if  he  did  have 
money  concealed  in  the  neighborhood.  I  often  felt 
heartily  ashamed  of  myself,  after  discussing  with 
some  friend  the  probability  of  his  having  concealed 
wealth,  but,  nevertheless,  the  fancy  that  he  had  took 
a  strong  hold  of  me. 

"  I  tried  to  imagine  where  on  earth  he  could  have 
hidden  anything,  and  always  my  thoughts  centred  on 
that  clump  of  palmettoes  on  that  low  sandy  island. 
This  feeling  finally  took  such  hold  of  me  that  one 
night  I  started  out  pelican-shooting  with  a  shovel  in 
the  bottom  of  my  boat 

"  I  felt  something  like  a  robber,  but  knowing  that 
the  old  fellow  had  no  relations,  or  friends  even,  for 
that  matter,  I  tried  to  convince  myself  that  I  was 
right.  It  was  about  eight  o'clock  when  I  started 
with  a  good  sailing  breeze  off  the  land,  so  it  could 
,not  have  been  more  than  ten  when  I  ran  my  boat's 
bow  on  the  sand  and  lowered  the  sail  on  the  west 

e  of  the  island. 


sid 

it 


The  Wind-jammers 


"As  I  took  up  my  gun  and  shovel  a  feeling  of 
excitement  came  over  me,  and  I  felt  as  though  I 
had  already  found  a  mass  of  untold  wealth.  When 
I  started  to  walk  across  the  island  this  feeling  in- 
creased, and  soon  I  was  plunging  and  ploughing 
through  the  deep  dry  sand  at  a  great  rate. 

"  I  could  see  the  bunch  of  trees  standing  out 
clearly  against  the  sky,  and  also  the  white  surf  be- 
yond, for,  although  the  moon  was  only  in  its  first 
quarter,  the  night  was  clear  and  bright.  I  halted  on 
the  crest  of  a  circular  sand-dune  to  get  my  breath,  and 
a  feeling  of  lonesomeness  crept  over  me  as  I  looked 
towards  the  dark  grove  and  down  the  lonely  beach 
where  everything  was  lifeless.  The  stillness  seemed 
intensified  by  the  deep  booming  of  the  surf,  and  I 
felt  as  if  something  or  somebody  was  watching  me. 
I  had  just  turned  towards  the  trees  and  was  starting 
down  the  side  of  the  dune  when,  with  a  sudden  rush 
and  flapping  of  wings,  a  huge  gray  pelican  started 
up  within  ten  feet  of  me  and  made  off  like  a  great 
gray  ghost  to  seaward.  A  sudden  chill  shot  up  my 
spine.  Dropping  the  shovel,  I  grabbed  my  gun  in 
both  hands  and  fired  instantly  at  the  retreating 
shadow.  The  shot  was  an  easy  one,  but  I  missed  ; 
so,  swearing  at  myself  audibly  for  my  nervousness,  I 
picked  up  the  shovel  and  went  on. 

"I  halted  under  the  largest  tree,  and,  resting  my 
gun  against  the  trunk,  tried  to  form  some  plan  of 
action.  Although  the  trees  were  some  thirty  feet 
above  high-water,  there  were  no  tracks  or  anything 
else  to  indicate  that  any  one  had  ever  been  there 

260 


My  Pirate 


before.  I  might  dig  the  whole  grove  up,  for  all  that 
I  had  to  guide  me,  before  striking  the  right  spot 
However,  I  went  to  work  at  the  front  of  the  big 
tree  and  started  to  dig  to  the  eastward. 

"  I  toiled  for  an  hour  and  was  getting  pretty 
warm.  Thus  far  I  had  struck  nothing  but  the  roots 
of  a  tree,  so  I  began  to  despair.  I  knew  that  I 
might  keep  on  digging  holes  clear  through  to  China, 
and,  with  nothing  to  guide  me,  pass  within  a  foot  of 
what  I  searched  for.  I  took  off  my  shirt,  and  the 
cool  breeze  blowing  on  my  warm  body  invigorated 
me ;  so,  taking  up  the  shovel  again,  I  started  to 
lengthen  the  hole  to  the  eastward.  I  dug  steadily 
for  another  half-hour,  when  my  shovel  suddenly 
struck  something  solid.  This  made  my  heart  almost 
leap  into  my  mouth,  and  with  quickening  breath  I 
dug  fiercely  on. 

"  Like  a  miner  on  making  his  first  find  of  gold,  I 
trembled  all  over,  and  the  perspiration  poured  down 
my  naked  breast  and  shoulders  as  I  .threw  clouds  of 
sand  on  all  sides.  I  was  as  drunk  as  if  I  had  swal- 
lowed a  pint  of  liquor,  and  I  remember  nothing  ex- 
cept that  I  felt  like  shouting  with  delight.  I  finally 
cleared  a  box  of  the  sand  over  it  and  then  tried  to 
lift  it.  To  my  intense  surprise  it  moved  easily.  But 
my  excitement  gave  way  to  the  deepest  disappoint- 
ment, for  I  well  knew  that  if  a  box  about  six  feet 
long,  two  wide,  and  two  deep  contained  coin  it  would 
take  more  than  one  man  of  my  size  to  move  it. 

"I  lost  no  time  thinking  these  thoughts,  but 
started  to  pry  off  the  lid.  The  wood,  which  was 

261 


The  Wind-jammers 


extremely  well  preserved,  resisted  the  edge  of  my 
shovel  so  well  that  it  broke  the  iron.  I  was  losing 
patience,  so,  whirling  the  shovel  above  my  head,  I 
brought  it  down  with  crushing  force  upon  the  lid. 
After  a  few  blows  it  gave  way,  and  I  eagerly  tore  off 
the  splintered  fragments.  As  I  did  so  I  leaned  over 
and  peered  into  the  face  of  a  corpse. 

"  I  leaped  back  and  gazed  at  it  in  a  stupefied  way 
for  some  moments,  my  head  in  a  whirl,  then  par- 
tially recovering  myself,  I  went  forward  to  examine 
it.  It  looked  like  the  body  of  a  man  in  the  uniform 
of  an  officer ;  at  least  so  I  judged  by  some  buttons 
on  the  coat ;  but  everything  had  passed  through  the 
last  stages  of  decomposition.  There  was  nothing 
left  on  the  head  at  all,  and  the  teeth  grinned  horribly 
in  the  moonlight. 

"  As  I  stood  and  gazed  I  thought  of  Alvarez.  So 
this  was  his  secret !  How  came  a  man  to  be  buried 
in  such  a  lonely  spot  ?  Was  it  a  friend  or  victim  of 
his  former  days,  brought  ashore  from  some  vessel  in 
the  offing  that  dare  not  land  at  St.  Augustine  ? 

"  I  did  not  molest  the  body,  but  after  recovering 
myself  I  put  the  fragments  of  the  lid  back  as  well 
as  I  could  and  piled  the  sand  over  it.  I  then 
dressed,  and,  taking  my  gun,  started  for  the  boat 
After  sailing  several  hours  with  hardly  any  wind,  I 
arrived  at  the  town  just  as  the  rising  sun  came  up 
out  of  the  ocean.  I  said  nothing  of  my  trip  to  any 
one,  and  soon  after  left  St  Augustine  to  return  no 
more  for  years. 

"  The  town  is  a  queer  old  place,  but  it  has  changed 
262 


My  Pirate 


greatly  to  one  who  remembers  it  as  it  was  years  ago. 
Its  quaint  old  fort  and  coquina  walls  doubtless  con- 
tain many  secrets  of  their  former  owners.  As  for 
old  Alvarez,  he  carried  his  to  sea  with  him  that 
bright  afternoon  with  a  shark  for  a  pilot" 


26* 


THE  CURSE  OF  WOMAN 

<t  ^"^  OME  skippers  are  good  and  some  are  bad," 

^^   said   Gantline,  joining  in  the  talk  on   the 

^-^   main-hatch.     He  was  second  mate,  so  we 

listened.     He  expectorated  with  great  accuracy  into 

a  coil  of  rope  and  continued  : 

"  Likewise  so  are  owners.  The  same  holds  good 
to  most  kinds  of  people.  Some  owners  don't  want 
good  skippers.  They're  apt  to  be  expensive  on  long 
runs,  for  they  won't  cheat  a  poor  devil  of  a  sailor 
out  of  his  lime-juice  and  other  luxuries  they  have 
nowadays.  At  best  a  sailor  gets  less  pay  and  works 
harder  than  any  man  alive,  leave  out  the  danger  and 
discomfort  on  a  long  voyage  on  an  overloaded  ship. 
It's  only  fair  to  treat  him  as  well  as  possible.  This 
idea  that  feeding  a  man  well  and  not  cursing  him  at 
every  order  will  make  him  lazy  is  wrong,  and  ought 
to  be  kept  among  the  class  of  skippers  who  take 
their  '  lunars'  with  a  hand-lead. 

"  There  are  some  ships  always  unlucky.  But  the 
luck  is  mostly  the  fault  of  the  skipper. 

"  Take,  for  instance,  the  loss  of  the  Golden  Arrow 
or  the  big  clipper  Pharos,  that  was  found  adrift  in 
the  doldrums  without  a  man  aboard  her.  Every- 
thing was  in  its  place  and  not  a  boat  was  lowered. 
Even  the  dishes  lay  upon  thefcable  with  the  food 
rotten  in  them,  but  there  wasn't  a  soul  to  tell  how 
she  came  to  be  unmanned.  She  was  an  unlucky 

264 


The  Curse  of  Woman 


ship,  for  on  her  next  voyage  out  she  stayed.  No 
one  has  seen  plank  or  spar  of  her  for  twelve  years. 
But  the  skipper  and  mate  who  left  her  adrift  outside 
of  the  Guinea  current  were  well  known  to  deep- 
water  men. 

"  I'm  no  sky-pilot,  and  I  don't  mean  to  say  a  skip- 
per who  prefers  a  pretty  stewardess  to  an  ugly  one — 
or  none  at  all — is  always  a  bad  man,  but  I  do  say 
that  a  skipper  who  cuts  off  a  man's  lime-juice,  gives 
him  weevils  for  bread,  and  two-year-old  junk  for 
beef,  has  got  enough  devilry  in  him  for  anything, 
and  is  apt  to  have  things  comfortable  in  the  after- 
cabin. 

"  It  was  nothing  but  scurvy  that  killed  young  Jim 
Douglas,  so  they  said  ;  but  what  about  Hollender, 
the  skipper,  who  brought  him  in  along  with  nineteen 
others  ? 

"  I  went  to  see  Jim  in  the  hospital,  and  he  was  an 
awful  sight.  His  eyes  rolled  horribly,  but  he  took 
my  hand  and  held  it  a  long  time  ;  then  he  tried  to 
talk.  His  mind  wasn't  steady  and  he  often  lost  his 
bearings,  but  there  was  something  besides  delirium 
behind  his  tale. 

"  *  Her  curse  is  on  us,  Gantline,'  he  kept  whisper- 
ing. I  held  him,  but  he  lay  mumbling.  *  Dan  died, 
too,  an'  we  sewed  him  up  in  canvas  like  a  ham,  an* 
over  he  went ;  but  it  wouldn't  have  helped,  for  the 
water  was  as  rotten  a^t  lays  in  the  deadwood  bilge. 
'Twas  the  ghost  of  th^skipper's  wife  holding  us  back 
— her  curse  did  the  business,  an'  I  knew  it'  Then  he 
calmed  down  and  talked  more  natural. 

265 


The  Wind-jammers 


"  '  She  came  aboard  with  the  child,  an'  Hollender's 
stewardess  wouldn't  wait  on  her.  Black- eyed  she- 
devil  that  woman.  An'  the  skipper  grinned,  an' 
the  poor  thing  cried  an'  cried  "  Don't  treat  me  so  ; 
have  mercy  !"  But  he  just  grinned  "You  can  go 
forward  an'  live  with  the  mate  if  you  don't  like  it," 
he  said.  She  just  cried  an'  cried.  One  night  she 
came  on  deck  an'  rushed  to  the  rail.  She  had  her 
baby  with  her  an'  she  hesitated. 

"  '  "  Shall  we  go  aft  ?"  I  said  to  Dan.  "  It's  mutiny 
an'  death,"  says  he. 

"'Then  she  cursed  us   all — an'    went    over   the 

side '      Jim  lay  quiet  after  this  for  a  minute, 

then  he  began  : 

"  '  Slower,  slower,  slower.  No  wind,  two  hundred 
days  out,  an'  the  water  as  rotten  as  it  is  in  the  dead- 
wood  bilge.  The  cat — I  mean  the  mate — went  up 
on  the  forecastle,  an'  he  never  came  back.  We  ate 
him,  an'  tied  his  paws  around  our  necks  for  luck. 
No  wind,  an'  the  sails  slatted  to  and  fro  on  the 
yards.  Midnight,  an'  bright  moonlight  when  it 
struck  us,  an'  tore  our  masts  out  an'  drove  us  far 
out  of  the  path  of  ships,  an'  we  lay  there  with  the 
boats  gone,  water-logged  till  we  rigged  enough  gear 

to    drift   home    by Help  !      Gantline,   help  ! 

The  curse  of  the  woman  was  on  the  ship,  for  there 
wasn't  a  man  aboard ' 

"  He  struggled  and  rose  up  in  the  cot  His  eyes 
were  staring  at  the  blank  walflP  I  held  him  hard  for 
an  instant  and  he  suddenly  relaxed.  Then  he  fell 
back  dead. 

266 


The  Curse  of  Woman 


"  Then,  you  see,  there  was  the  Albatross  that 
sailed " 

"  But  hold  on  a  bit.  Stop  a  minute  !"  said  Mr. 
Enlis.  "  If  you  keep  on  like  that,  Gantline,  you'll 
ruin  the  passenger  trade  as  far  as  wimmen  are  con- 
cerned. As  for  stewardesses,  there  won't  be  one 
afloat  if  you  keep  croaking.  You  seem  to  think 
wimmen  do  nothing  but  harm  afloat,  whereas  I  know 
plenty  who  have  done  good.  I  don't  see  what  wim- 
men have  to  do  with  wittles,  anyhow?" 

"  Who  in  the  name  of  Davy  Jones  said  they  had  ?" 

growled  Gantline,  angrily.     "I'm  no  sky-pilot,  and 
j »» 

"  Right  you  are,  mate,  you  say  true  there,  for  if  I 
was  to  go  to  you  to  get  my  last  heading  I'd  fetch  up 
on  a  lee  shore  where  there'd  be  few  strange  faces." 

Gantline  gave  a  grunt  of  disgust.  "That's  just 
the  way  with  you  every  time  any  one  starts  a  line  of 
argument  to  prove  a  thing's  so  ;  you  always  sheer 
off,  or  bring  in  something  that's  got  nothing  to  do 
with  the  case  and  don't  signify.  Here  I've  been 
showing  that  bad  luck  to  ships  is  caused  by  some- 
thing wrong  with  the  skippers,  and  here  you  are 
trying  to  bring  wimmen  into  the  case,  just  as  if  your 
thoughts  ran  on  nothing  else.  But,  pshaw  !  every- 
body knows  what  kind  of  a  fellow  you  are  when 
you're  on  the  beach."  And  he  jerked  his  pipe  into 
his  pocket  and  walked  aft. 

"Never  mind  him,"  said  Mr.  Enlis.  "He's  an 
old  croaker,  and  it's  just  such  growling  that  makes 
trouble  for  skippers.  But  whenever  you  see  a  man 

267 


The  Wind-jammers 


talk  like  that  there's  always  something  behind  it 
Yes,  sir,  every  time." 

"How  do  you  mean?"  asked  Chips. 

"  Well,  when  a  man's  soured  on  wimmen  there  is 
always  a  cause  for  it,  and  I  happen  to  know  some- 
thing about  Gantline's  past  It's  the  old  story,  but 
who  wants  to  know  how  Jim  or  Jack's  wife  fell  in 
love  with  him?  Neither  does  any  one  care  about 
how  she  comes  to  leave  him,  though  nearly  all  story 
books  are  written  about  such  things,  and  that's  the 
reason  I  never  read  them.  There  ain't  much  novelty 
in  that  line. 

"  Lord,  love  is  all  alike,  just  the  same  in  the  poor 
man  as  in  the  rich  ;  but  what  I  was  about  to  say  is 
this  :  Gantline,  here,  gives  the  idea  that  wimmen  are 
dangerous  afloat  and  leaves  off  telling  anything 
good  about  them.  That  ain't  exactly  fair.  It's  true 
most  wimmen  who  follow  the  sea  are  not  exactly  to 
be  considered  fighting  craft,  and  are  mighty  apt  to 
strike  their  colors  do  you  but  let  it  be  known  you're 
out  for  prizes.  Still,  I  know  of  cases  where  they've 
done  a  power  of  good.  There  was  'Short  Moll,' 
who  was  stewardess  with  old  man  Fane,  and  she 
made  him. 

"The  old  man,  you  see,  had  been  getting  lonely, 
and  had  taken  to  carrying  large  invoices  of  grog, 
which  is  bound  to  break  a  man  in  the  long  run. 

"  One  day  at  the  dock  Moll  came  along  and  in- 
quired for  the  skipper.  The  old  man  saw  her  com- 
ing, and  bawled  out,  '  For  Heaven's  sake,  Mr.  Enlis, 
don't  let  her  come  aboard  !'  and  dived  below. 

268 


The  Curse  of  Woman 


"  I  ran  to  the  gang-plank  as  she  started  over  and 
said,  *  Captain's  gone  up-town,  and  there  ain't  no 
visitors  allowed.' 

" '  Oh,  there  ain't  ?'  she  said  sort  of  sweetly,  and 
she  screwed  up  her  little  slits  of  eyes.  '  If  that's  the 
case,  you  may  consider  me  one  of  the  crew,  for  I've 
got  a  notion  they  want  a  stewardess  aboard.' 

"  'There  ain't  no  passengers,  so  get  back  on  the 
dock  and  obey  orders !'  And  I  planted  myself 
athwart  the  plank. 

"  Well,  sir,  if  you  ever  seen  a  change  come  over 
a  woman  in  three  shakes  of  a  sheet-rope  you  ought 
to  seen  her. 

"  '  What !'  she  yelled.  '  You  stop  me  from  com- 
ing aboard  a  ship  in  this  free  an'  easy  country  of 
America?  Git  out  o'  the  way,  you  slab-sided, 
herring-gutted  son  of  a  wind-jammer,  or  I'll  run  ye 
down  an'  cut  ye  in  two.'  And  she  bore  down  on  me 
under  full  sail. 

"  She  carried  a  full  cargo,  and  I  stepped  down 
on  the  main-deck,  for,  after  all,  that  gang-plank 
was  too  narrow  a  subject  for  such  broad-minded  folk 
as  Moll  and  me  to  discuss  on  the  spur  of  the  mo- 
ment. 

"  She  never  gave  me  a  look,  but  steered  straight 
for  the  cabin  and  disappeared. 

"  There  was  a  most  uncommon  noise,  and  I  saw 
the  skipper's  head  pop  up  the  hatchway.  But  in  a 
moment  he  was  drawn  slowly  downward,  and  as  he 
turned  his  face  he  looked  like  a  drowning  man  sink- 
ing for  the  last  time. 

269 


The  Wind-jammers 


"Well,  the  first  day  off  soundings  there  was 
another  fracas,  and  Moll  came  forward  with  a  can  of 
condensed  milk  in  one  hand  and  a  bunch  of  keys  in 
the  other.  She  gave  me  a  leer  and  waved  the  can 
of  milk,  and  I  knew  we  were  to  live  high  that 
voyage.  I  hadn't  tasted  the  stuff  for  nigh  two 
years. 

"  One  day  there  was  another  scuffle  below,  and  a 
bottle  of  liquor  sailed  up  the  companion-way  and 
smashed  against  the  binnacle.  There  were  all  kinds 
of  noises  after  that,  but  I  finally  made  out  Moll's 
voice  bawling,  '  Not  another  drap,  sir  f  Not  another 
drap  !' 

"He  was  a  sober  man  for  two  years  until  she 
left,  and  after  Fane  heard  of  her  death  he  wasn't 
the  same  man.  She  really  did  more  good  than 
many  a  better  brought-up  woman  on  the  beach,  and 
if  he  called  her  an  angel  it's  nothing  to  laugh  at, 
though  her  wings  may  have  looked  more  like  the 
little  winged  animals  that  fly  o'  night  among  the 
mosquitoes  in  the  harbor  than  like  doves. 

"  So  you  see  there's  no  use  going  against  the 
wimmen,  for  there's  lots  of  good  in  them,  only  it 
takes  strange  circumstances  at  times  to  bring  it  out. 

"After  all,  I  don't  blame  Gantline.  And  between 
us  I'll  tell  you  why." 

Here  Mr.  Enlis  looked  sharply  fore  and  aft  to  see 
if  anybody  might  interrupt  us,  and  then  spoke  in  a 
low  voice. 

"  He  married  a  girl  years  ago,  and  one  day  he 
came  home  and  found  her  missing.  She  had  run 

270 


The  Curse  of  Woman 


off  with  a  fellow  named  Jones,  who  was  once  mate 
with  Crojack. 

"He  followed  that  fellow  all  over  the  world. 
That  hole  in  his  cheek  is  where  Jones's  bullet  went 
through  when  they  met  once  on  the  streets  in  Cal- 
cutta. Jones  got  several  bad  cuts  before  they  were 
separated.  A  year  or  two  after  this  they  met  again, 
and  Gantline  has  had  that  list  in  his  walk  ever  since. 
You  see,  virtue  and  right  don't  always  come  out 
winners  on  deep-water,  unless  the  virtue  lies  in  the 
heft  of  your  hand.  That  mate  Jones  was  a  big 
man,  and  they  used  to  say  he  was  a  powerful  hand 
for  putting  a  crew  through  a  course  of  study  to  find 
out  who's  who  and  what's  what.  According  to  re- 
port they  generally  found  Bill  Jones  was  something 
of  both,  and  I  heard  that  one  voyage  there  wasn't 
enough  belaying-pins  left  aboard  to  clew  down  the 
topsails  on,  so  they  left  them  flying  and  put  over  the 
side  for  it  as  soon  as  the  hook  took  the  ground. 

"  But  what  I  am  coming  to  is  this  :  Gantline  was 
second  mate  with  that  same  fellow  Hollender  the 
voyage  one  of  his  men  sent  his  black  soul  to  hell. 
The  mate  was  killed  and  Gantline  was  left  in  com- 
mand. 

"To  the  eastward  of  Juan  Fernandez  he  picked 
up  a  boat  adrift  with  one  man  in  it.  He  was  alive 
and  that  was  all.  Gantline  stood  by  while  they 
lifted  the  fellow  on  deck,  and  as  he  caught  sight  of 
his  sun-blackened  face  with  the  dry  lips  cracking 
over  the  black  gums  he  gave  a  start  and  swore  hor- 
ribly. Then  he  walked  fore  and  aft  on  the  poop, 

271 


The  Wind-jammers 


and  they  say  he  chewed  up  nigh  two  pounds  of  to- 
bacco during  the  rest  of  the  day.  When  the  fel- 
low's mouth  was  wet  enough  to  speak  with,  he  raved 
and  cried,  '  Saved  at  last !  Saved  at  last  !'  until 
they  had  to  lash  him  in  his  bunk.  Sometimes  he 
would  call  out  a  girl's  name,  and  Gantline  would  rush 
forward  onto  the  forecastle-head  and  storm  at  the 
men  working  on  deck. 

"  It  didn't  last  long.  The  fellow  was  strong  and 
began  to  recover,  and  then  Gantline  had  his  say. 
He  walked  into  the  room  one  morning  carrying  two 
glasses  full  of  grog,  and  he  put  them  both  on  the 
sea-chest. 

"Jones  looked  up  and  recognized  him — for  he 
was  clear  in  his  mind  now — and  he  started  for  him. 
But  he  was  too  weak,  and  Gantline  bore  him  back 
into  the  bunk  and  poked  a  revolver  into  his  face, 
telling  him  to  keep  quiet. 

"  'You  are  in  my  hands  now,  and  I'll  give  you  a 
fair  chance,  but  God  knows  you  don't  deserve  it,' 
he  said.  '  I  could  tip  you  over  the  side  as  well  as 
not,  but  I  won't  unless  it's  your  fate.' 

"The  fellow  saw  he  was  caught  and  started  up 
again,  but  Gantline  drew  the  barrel  of  his  pistol 
level  with  his  eyes,  so  he  kept  quiet 

"  '  Now,'  he  went  on,  '  you  are  too  weak  to  fight 
with  any  chance,  but  I've  followed  you  too  long  to 
let  you  go  unless  it's  the  will  of  Providence  In  one 
of  those  glasses  of  grog  is  a  poison  that  will  put 
one  man  out  of  misery  without  any  mess.  I  know 
which  glass  holds  it,  but  you  don't ;  so  I'll  give  you 

272 


The  Curse  of  Woman 


first  chance.  If  it  comes  to  me  I'll  drink  it,  but  if 
it  comes  to  you,  you'll  drink  it  or  I'll  put  a  hole  in 
your  face.  Now  let  her  go.' 

"  The  fellow  Jones  lay  silent  a  moment  and  looked 
Gantline  steadily  in  the  eyes.  Then  a  smile  broke 
slowly  over  his  face.  He  picked  up  a  glass  and 
drank  off  the  liquor,  and  Gantline  did  the  same. 
Then  Gantline  hurried  on  deck. 

"  He  walked  fore  and  aft  a  few  moments  and  then 
dived  below  for  the  medicine-chest" 

"  What !"  cried  Chips,  "  did  he  get  the  poison  ?" 

"Sure,"  said  Mr.  Enlis  ;  "but  you  see  Gantline 
isn't  such  a  fool  as  he  looks.  He  had  done  some 
thinking  during  those  moments  on  deck,  and  it 
seemed  to  clear  his  mind.  It  don't  do  to  lay  down 
the  law  to  Providence.  No,  sir,  it  don't  do.  You 
never  can  tell  just  what  Providence  will  do.  Gant- 
line measured  a  tremendous  emetic  and  gulped  it 
down.  Likewise,  in  a  moment,  up  it  came,  and  the 
poison  with  it. 

"After  all,  he  did  the  right  thing  by  Jones.  He 
put  him  ashore,  and  as  luck  would  have  it,  the  war 
was  on  then,  and  he  was  shot  just  outside  Valparaiso 
by  the  Chilian  soldiers,  who  took  him  for  a  deserter. 
That's  the  reason  Gantline  never  says  anything  good 
about  wimmen — and  I  don't  blame  him  much  I" 


THE    END 


<L  page  anb  Company's 
Ennouncement  %tet 
of  IRew  fiction 


Carolina  Lee 

By  LILIAN  BELL,  author  of  "  Hope  Loring,"  "  Abroad  with  the 

Jimmies,"  etc. 

With  a  frontispiece  in  colour  from  an  oil  painting  by  Dora  Wheeler 

Keith #1.50 

A  typical  "  Lilian  Bell"  book,  bright,  breezy,  amusing,  philosophic, 
full  of  fun  and  bits  of  quotable  humour. 

Carolina  is  a  fascinating  American  girl,  born  and  educated  in  Paris, 
and  at  the  beginning  of  the  story  riding  on  the  top  wave  of  success 
in  New  York  society.  A  financial  catastrophe  leaves  her  stranded 
without  money,  and  her  only  material  asset  an  old,  run-down  planta- 
tion in  South  Carolina.  In  the  face  of  strong  opposition  she  goes 
South  to  restore  the  old  homestead  and  rebuild  her  fortunes.  Com- 
plications speedily  follow,  but,  with  indomitable  faith  and  courage, 
Carolina  perseveres  until  her  efforts  are  rewarded  by  success  and 
happiness. 

The  Cruise  of  the  Conqueror 

BEING  THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES  OF  THE  MOTOR  PIRATE. 

By  G.  SIDNEY   PATERNOSTER,  author  of  "The   Motor  Pirate," 

etc. 

With  a  frontispiece  by  Frank  T.  Merrill     .         .         .         .     $1.50 

One  of  the  most  fascinating  games  to  childhood  is  the  old-fash- 
ioned "  hide-and-seek,"  with  its  scurrying  for  covert,  its  breathless 
suspense  to  both  hider  and  seeker,  and  its  wild  dash  for  goal  when 
the  seeker  is  successful.  Readers  of  "  The  Motor  Pirate  "  will  re- 
member the  exciting  game  played  by  the  motor  pirate  and  his  pur- 
suers, and  will  be  glad  to  have  the  sport  taken  up  again  in  the  new 
volume. 

In  "  The  Cruise  of  the  Conqueror,"  a  motor-boat  enables  the 
motor  pirate  to  pursue  his  victims  in  even  a  bolder  and  more 
startling  way,  such,  for  example,  as  the  hold-up  of  an  ocean  steamer 
and  the  seizure  for  ransom  of  the  Prince  of  Monte  Carlo. 


L.  C.  PAGE  AND  COMPANY'S 


The  Passenger  from  Calais 

A  DETECTIVE  STORY.     By  ARTHUR  GRIFFITHS. 

Cover  design  by  Eleanor  Hobson $l*2$ 

A  bright,  quickly  moving  detective  story  telling  of  the  adventures 
which  befell  a  mysterious  lady  flying  from  Calais  through  France 
into  Italy,  closely  pursued  by  detectives.  Her  own  quick  wits, 
aided  by  those  of  a  gallant  fellow  passenger,  give  the  two  officers 
an  unlooked-for  and  exciting  "  run  for  their  money."  One  hardly 
realizes  till  now  the  dramatic  possibilities  of  a  iailway  train,  and 
what  an  opportunity  for  excitement  may  be  afforded  by  a  joint 
railway  station  for  two  or  more  roads. 

It  is  a  well-planned,  logical  detective  story  of  the  better  sort,  free 
from  cheap  sensationalism  and  improbability,  developing  surely  and 
steadily  by  means  of  exciting  situations  to  an  unforeseen  and  satis- 
factory ending. 

The  Golden  Arrow 

By  T.  JENKINS  HAINS,  author  of  "The  Black  Barque,"  "The 

Windjammers,"  etc. 

With  six  illustrations  by  H.  C.  Edwards     ....    £1.50 

Another  of  Captain  Hains's  inimitable  sea  stories,  in  which  piracy, 
storm,  and  shipwreck  are  cleverly  intermingled  with  love  and  romance, 
and  vivid  and  picturesque  descriptions  of  life  at  sea.  Mr.  Hains's 
new  story  describes  the  capture  on  the  high  seas  of  an  American 
vessel  by  a  gang  of  convicts,  who  have  seized  and  burned  the 
English  ship  on  which  they  were  being  transported,  and  their  final 
recapture  by  a  British  man-of-war. 

The  Treasure  Trail 

By  FRANK  L.  POLLOCK. 

Library  i2mo,  cloth  decorative £1.25 

This  is  a  splendid  story  of  adventure,  full  of  good  incidents  that 
are  exceptionally  exciting.  The  story  deals  with  the  search  for  gold 
bullion,  originally  stolen  from  the  Boer  government  in  Pretoria,  and 
stored  in  a  steamer  sunk  somewhere  in  the  Mozambique  Channel. 
Two  different  search  parties  are  endeavouring  to  secure  the  treasure, 
and  the  story  deals  with  their  adventures  and  its  final  recovery  by 
one  party  only  a  few  hours  before  the  arrival  of  the  second. 

The  book  reads  like  an  extract  from  life,  and  the  whole  story  is 
vivid  and  realistic  with  descriptions  of  the  life  of  a  party  of  gentle- 
men adventurers  who  are  willing  to  run  great  odds  for  great  gains. 

There  is  also  "  a  woman  in  the  case,"  Margaret  Laurie,  who  proves 
a  delightful,  reliant,  and  audacious  heroine. 


LIST  OF  NEW  FICTION 


Miss  Frances  Baird,  Detective 

By  REGINALD  WRIGHT  KAUFFMAN,  author  of  "Jarvis  of  Har- 
vard," etc. 

Library  I2mo,  cloth  decorative $1.25 

A  double  robbery  and  a  murder  have  given  Mr.  Kauffman  the 
material  for  his  clever  detective  story.  Miss  Baird  tells  how  she 
finally  solved  the  mystery,  and  how  she  outwitted  the  other  detec- 
tive at  work  on  the  case,  by  her  woman's  intuition  and  sympathy, 
when  her  reputation  for  keenness  and  efficiency  was  hanging  in  the 
balance. 

The  Idlers 

By  MORLEY  ROBERTS,  author  of  "Rachel  Marr,"  "Lady  Pe- 
nelope," etc. 

With  frontispiece  in  colour  by  John  C.  Frohn  .  .  .  $1.50 
The  London  Literary  World  says :  "  In  *  The  Idlers '  Mr.  Morley 
Roberts  does  for  the  smart  set  of  London  what  Mrs.  Wharton  has 
done  in  '  The  House  of  Mirth '  for  the  American  social  class  of  the 
same  name.  His  primary  object  seems  to  be  realism,  the  portrayal 
of  life  as  it  is  without  exaggeration,  and  we  were  impressed  by  the 
reserve  displayed  by  the  novelist.  It  is  a  powerful  novel,  a  merci- 
less dissection  of  modern  society  similar  to  that  which  a  skilful  sur- 
geon would  make  of  a  pathological  case." 

The  New  York  Sun  says :  "  //  is  as  absorbing  as  the  devil.  Mr. 
Roberts  gives  us  the  antithesis  of  'Rachel  Marr'  in  an  equally 
masterful  and  convincing  work." 

Professor  Charles  G.  D.  Roberts  says :  "  It  is  a  work  of  great 
ethical  force." 

Stand  Pat 

OR,  POKER  STORIES  FROM  BROWNVILLK.    By  DAVID  A.  CUR- 
TIS, author  of  "  Queer  Luck,"  etc. 

With  six  drawings  by  Henry  Roth $1.50 

Mr.  Curtis  is  the  poker  expert  of  the  New  York  Sun,  and  many 
of  the  stories  in  "  Stand  Pat "  originally  appeared  in  the  Sun.  Al- 
though in  a  sense  short  stories,  they  have  a  thread  of  continuity,  in 
that  the  principal  characters  appear  throughout.  Every  poker  player 
will  enjoy  Mr.  Curtis's  clever  recital  of  the  strange  luck  to  which 
Dame  Fortune  sometimes  treats  her  devotees  in  the  uncertain  game 
of  draw  poker,  and  will  appreciate  the  startling  coups  by  which  she 
is  occasionally  outwitted. 


4    L.  C.  PAGE  AND  COMPANY'S  LIST  OF  NEW  FICTION 

The  Count  at  Harvard 

BEING  AN  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  YOUNG 
GENTLEMAN  OF  FASHION  AT  HARVARD  UNIVERSITY.  By 
RUPERT  SARGENT  HOLLAND. 

With  a  characteristic  cover  design $!•$<* 

With  the  possible  exception  of  Mr.  Flandrau's  work,  the  "  Count 
at  Harvard  "  is  the  most  natural  and  the  most  truthful  exposition  of 
average  student  life  yet  written,  and  is  thoroughly  instinct  with  the 
real  college  atmosphere.  "  The  Count "  is  not  a  foreigner,  but  is 
the  nickname  of  one  of  the  principal  characters  in  the  book. 

The  story  is  clean,  bright,  clever,  and  intensely  amusing.  Typical 
Harvard  institutions,  such  as  the  Hasty  Pudding  Club,  The  Crimson, 
the  Crew,  etc.,  are  painted  with  deft  touches,  which  will  fill  the  soul 
of  every  graduate  with  joy,  and  be  equally  as  fascinating  to  all  college 
students. 


Selections  from 

L.  C.  Page  and  Company's 

List  of  Fiction 


WORKS  OF 

ROBERT  NEILSON  STEPHENS 

Each  one  vol.,  library  i2mo,  cloth  decorative    .         .         .     $1.50 

The  Flight  of  Qeorgiana 

A  ROMANCE  OF  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  YOUNG  PRETENDER.  Illus- 
trated by  H.  C.  Edwards. 

"  A  love-story  in  the  highest  degree,  a  dashing  story,  and  a  re- 
markably well  finished  piece  of  work."  —  Chicago  Record-Herald. 

The  Bright  Face  of  Danger 

Being  an  account  of  some  adventures  of  Henri  de  Launay,  son  of 

the  Sieur  de  la  Tournoire.     Illustrated  by  H.  C.  Edwards. 

"  Mr.   Stephens   has  fairly   outdone    himself.       We   thank  him 

heartily.     The   story  is   nothing   if   not   spirited   and  entertaining, 

rational  and  convincing."  —  Boston  Transcript. 

The  Mystery  of  Murray  Davenport 

(40th  thousand.) 

"This  is  easily  the  best  thing  that  Mr.  Stephens  has  yet  done. 
Those  familiar  with  his  other  novels  can  best  judge  the  measure  of 
this  praise,  which  is  generous."  —  Buffalo  News. 

Captain  Ravenshaw 

OR,  THE  MAID  OF  CHEAPSIDE.  (52d  thousand.)  A  romance 
of  Elizabethan  London.  Illustrations  by  Howard  Pyle  and  other 
artists. 

Not  since  the  absorbing  adventures  of  D'Artagnan  have  we  had 
anything  so  good  in  the  blended  vein  of  romance  and  comedy. 

The  Continental  Dragoon 

A  ROMANCE  OF  PHILIPSE  MANOR  HOUSE  IN  1778.  (5jd 
thousand.)  Illustrated  by  H.  C.  Edwards. 

A  stirring  romance  of  the  Revolution,  with  its  scene  laid  on 
neutral  territory. 

I 


L.   C.   PAGE   AND   COMPANY'S 


Philip  Winwood 

(70th  thousand.)  A  Sketch  of  the  Domestic  History  of  an 
American  Captain  in  the  War  of  Independence,  embracing  events 
that  occurred  between  and  during  the  years  1763  and  1785  in 
New  York  and  London.  Illustrated  by  E.  W.  D.  Hamilton. 

An  Enemy  to  the  King 

(7Oth  thousand.)     From  the  "  Recently  Discovered  Memoirs  of 
the  Sieur  de  la  Tournoire."     Illustrated  by  H.  De  M.  Young. 
An   historical  romance  of  the   sixteenth  century,  describing  the 

adventures  of  a  young  French  nobleman  at  the  court  of  Henry  III., 

and  on  the  field  with  Henry  IV. 

The  Road  to  Paris 

A   STORY  OF  ADVENTURE.      (35th  thousand.)      Illustrated  by 

H.  C.  Edwards. 

An  historical  romance  of  the  eighteenth  century,  being  an  account 
of  the  life  of  an  American  gentleman  adventurer  of  Jacobite  an- 
cestry. 

A  Gentleman  Player 

His  ADVENTURES  ON  A  SECRET  MISSION  FOR  QUEEN  ELIZA- 
BETH.    (48th  thousand.)     Illustrated  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 
The  story  of  a  young  gentleman  who  joins  Shakespeare's  com- 
pany of  players,  and  becomes  a  friend  and  protege  of   the  great 
poet.  

WORKS  OF 

CHARLES  G,  D,  ROBERTS 

Red  Fox 

THE  STORY  OF  His  ADVENTUROUS  CAREER  IN  THE  RINGWAAK 
WILDS,  AND  OF  His  FINAL  TRIUMPH  OVER  THE  ENEMIES  OF 
His  KIND.  With  fifty  illustrations,  including  frontispiece  in 
color  and  cover  design  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull. 

Square  quarto,  cloth  decorative $2.00 

"  Infinitely  more  wholesome  reading  than  the  average   tale  of 

sport,  since  it  gives  a  glimpse  of  the  hunt  from  the  point  of  view  of 

the  hunted."  —  Boston  Transcript. 

"  True  in  substance  but  fascinating  as  fiction.     It  will  interest 

old  and  young,  city-bound  and  free-footed,  those  who  know  animals 

and  those  who  do  not."  —  Chicago  Record-Herald. 

"A  brilliant  chapter  in   natural   history."  —  Philadelphia  North 

American. 


LIST  OF  FICTION 


The  Kindred  of  the  Wild 

A  BOOK  OF  ANIMAL  LIFE.  With  fifty-one  full-page  plates  and 
many  decorations  from  drawings  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull. 

Square  quarto,  decorative  cover $2.00 

"  Is  in  many  ways  the  most  brilliant  collection  of  animal  stories 
that  has  appeared ;  well  named  and  well  done."  — John  Burroughs. 

The  Watchers  of  the  Trails 

A   companion   volume  to   "  The  Kindred  of  the  Wild."     With 

forty-eight  full-page  plates  and  many  decorations  from  drawings 

by  Charles  Livingston  Bull. 

Square  quarto,  decorative  cover          .....     $2.00 

"  Mr.  Roberts  has  written  a  most  interesting  series  of  tales  free 
from  the  vices  of  the  stories  regarding  animals  of  many  other 
writers,  accurate  in  their  facts  and  admirably  and  dramatically  told." 
—  Chicago  News. 

"  These  stories  are  exquisite  in  their  refinement,  and  yet  robust 
in  their  appreciation  of  some  of  the  rougher  phases  of  woodcraft. 
Among  the  many  writers  about  animals,  Mr.  Roberts  occupies  an 
enviable  place."  —  The  Oiitlook. 

"  This  is  a  book  full  of  delight.  An  additional  charm  lies  in  Mr. 
Bull's  faithful  and  graphic  illustrations,  which  in  fashion  all  their 
own  tell  the  story  of  the  wild  life,  illuminating  and  supplementing 
the  pen  pictures  of  the  author."  — Literary  Digest. 

Earth's  Enigmas 

A  new  edition  of  Mr.  Roberts's  first  volume  of  fiction,  published 
in  1892,  and  out  of  print  for  several  years,  with  the  addition  of 
three  new  stories,  and  ten  illustrations  by  Charles  Livingston 
Bull. 

Library  1 2mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover         .        .         .         .     $1.50 

"  It   will   rank    high   among   collections   of    short    stories.       In 

'  Earth's  Enigmas  '  is  a  wider  range  of  subject  than  in  the  '  Kindred 

of  the  Wild.' "  —  Review  from  advance  sheets  of  the  illustrated  edition 

by  Tiffany  Blake  in  the  Chicago  Evening  Post. 

Barbara  Ladd 

With  four  illustrations  by  Frank  Verbeck. 

Library  i2mo,  gilt  top          .         • $1-5° 

"  From  the  opening  chapter  to  the  final  page  Mr.  Roberts  lures 
us  on  by  his  rapt  devotion  to  the  changing  aspects  of  Nature  and 
by  his  keen  and  sympathetic  analysis  of  human  character."  — 
Boston  Transcript. 


L.    C.  PAGE  AND   COMPANY'S 


Cameron  of  Lochiel  * 

Translated  from  the  French  of  Philippe  Aubert  de  Gaspe,  with 

frontispiece  in  color  by  H.  C.  Edwards. 

Library  12010,  cloth  decorative $i'5O 

"  Professor  Roberts  deserves  the  thanks  of  his  reader  for  giving 
a  wider  audience  an  opportunity  to  enjoy  this  striking  bit  of  French 
Canadian  literature."  —  Brooklyn  Eagle. 

"  It  is  not  often  in  these  days  of  sensational  and  philosophical 
novels  that  one  picks  up  a  book  that  so  touches  the  heart."  — 
Boston  Transcript. 

The  Prisoner  of  Mademoiselle 

With  frontispiece  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 

Library  i2tno,  cloth  decorative,  gilt  top      •        •        .        .    $1.50 

A  tale  of  Acadia,  —  a  land  which  is  the  author's  heart's  delight, 
—  of  a  valiant  young  lieutenant  and  a  winsome  maiden,  who  first 
captures  and  then  captivates. 

"  This  is  the  kind  of  a  story  that  makes  one  grow  younger,  more 
innocent,  more  light-hearted.  Its  literary  quality  is  impeccable. 
It  is  not  every  day  that  such  a  heroine  blossoms  into  even  tempo- 
rary existence,  and  the  very  name  of  the  story  bears  a  breath  of 
charm."  —  Chicago  Record-Herald. 

The  Heart  of  the  Ancient  Wood 

With  six  illustrations  by  James  L.  Weston. 

Library  1 2mo,  decorative  cover $1.50 

"  One  of  the  most  fascinating  novels  of  recent  days."  —  Boston 
Journal. 

"  A  classic  twentieth-century  romance."  —  New  York  Commercial 
Advertiser. 

The  Forge  in  the  Forest 

Being  the  Narrative  of  the  Acadian  Ranger,  Jean  de  Mer, 
Seigneur  de  Briart,  and  how  he  crossed  the  Black  Abbe,  and  of 
his  adventures  in  a  strange  fellowship.  Illustrated  by  Henry 
Sandham,  R.  C.  A. 

Library  1 2mo,  cloth,  gilt  top     -.  .        .        .        .     $1.50 

A  story  of  pure  love  and  heroic  adventure. 

By  the  Marshes  of  Minas 

Library  1 2mo,  cloth,  gilt  top,  illustrated  ....  $1.50 
Most  of  these  romances  are  in  the  author's  lighter  and  more 

playful   vein;   each  is  a  unit  of  absorbing  interest  and  exquisite 

workmanship. 


LIST  OF  FICTION  5 

A  5ister  to  Evangeline 

Being  the  Story  of  Yvonne  de  Lamourie,  and  how  she  went  into 
exile  with  the  villagers  of  Grand  Pre. 

Library  I2mo,  cloth,  gilt  top,  illustrated      .         .         .         .    $1.50 
Swift  action,  fresh  atmosphere,  wholesome  purity,  deep  passion, 
and  searching  analysis  characterize  this  strong  novel. 


WORKS  OF 

LILIAN   BELL 

Hope  Loring 

Illustrated  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 

Library  I2mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover          .         .         .         .    $1.50 

"  Lilian  Bell's  new  novel,  '  Hope  Loring,'  does  for  the  American 
girl  in  fiction  what  Gibson  has  done  for  her  in  art. 

"  Tall,  slender,  and  athletic,  fragile-looking,  yet  with  nerves  and 
sinews  of  steel  under  the  velvet  flesh,  frank  as  a  boy  and  tender 
and  beautiful  as  a  woman,  free  and  independent,  yet  not  bold  — 
such  is  '  Hope  Loring,'  by  long  odds  the  subtlest  study  that  has  yet 
been  made  of  the  American  girl."  —  Dorothy  Dix,  in  the  New  York 
American. 

Abroad  with  the  Jimmies 

With  a  portrait,  in  duogravure,  of  the  author. 

Library  I2mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover          .        .         .         .     $1.50 

"Full  of  ozone,  of  snap,  of  ginger,  of  swing  and  momentum."  — 
Chicago  Evening  Post. 

"...  Is  one  of  her  best  and  cleverest  novels  .  .  .  filled  to  the 
brim  with  amusing  incidents  and  experiences.  This  vivacious  narra- 
tive needs  no  commendation  to  the  readers  of  Miss  Bell's  well-known 
earlier  books."  —  N.  Y.  Press. 

At  Home  with  the  Jardines 

A  companion  volume  to  "  Abroad  with  the  Jimmies." 

Library  1 2mo,  cloth  decorative $i-5° 

"  Bits  of  gay  humor,  sunny,  whimsical  philosophy,  and  keen  in- 
dubitable insight  into  the  less  evident  aspects  and  workings  of  pare 
human  nature,  with  a  slender  thread  of  a  cleverly  extraneous  love- 
story,  keep  the  interest  of  the  reader  fresh,  and  the  charmingly  old- 
fashioned  happy  ending  is  to  be  generously  commended.  Typical, 
characteristic  Lilian  Bell  sketches,  bright,  breezy,  amusing,  and 
philosophic."  —  Chicago  Record-Herald. 


L.   C.  PAGE   AND   COMPANY'S 


The  Interference  of  Patricia 

With  a  frontispiece  from  drawing  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 

Small  1 2 mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover £1.00 

"  There  is  life  and  action  and  brilliancy  and  dash  and  cleverness 
and  a  keen  appreciation  of  business  ways  in  this  story." —  Grand 
Rapids  Herald. 

"  A  story  full  of  keen  and  flashing  satire."  —  Chicago  Record- 
Herald. 

A  Book  of  Girls 

With  a  frontispiece. 

Small  1 2mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover $1.00 

"  The  stories  are  all  eventful  and  have  effective  humor."  —  New 
York  Sun. 

"  Lilian  Bell  surely  understands  girls,  for  she  depicts  all  the  varia- 
tions of  girl  nature  so  charmingly." —  Chicago  Journal. 

The  above  two  volumes  boxed  in  special  holiday  dress,  per  set, 


WORKS  OF 

ALICE  MacGOWAN  AND  GRACE  Mac- 
GOWAN  COOKE 

Return 

A  STORY  OF  THE  SEA  ISLANDS  IN  1739.  With  six  illustrations 

by  C.  D.  Williams. 

Library  1  2mo,  cloth     ........    $1.50 

"  So  rich  in  color  is  this  story,  so  crowded  with  figures,  it  seems 
like  a  bit  of  old  Italian  wall  painting,  a  piece  of  modern  tapestry, 
rather  than  a  modern  fabric  woven  deftly  from  the  threads  of  fact 
and  fancy  gathered  up  in  this  new  and  essentially  practical  country, 
and  therein  lies  its  distinctive  value  and  excellence."  —  Ar.  Y.  Sun. 

"  At  once  tender,  thrilling,  picturesque,  philosophical,  and  dra- 
matic. One  of  the  most  delightful  romances  we  have  had  in  many 
a  fay.  "—Chicago  Record-Herald. 


Grapple 

With  frontispiece  in  color  by  Arthur  W.  Brown. 
Library  12  mo,  cloth  decorative   ......    $1.50 

"  The  movement  of  the  tale  is  swift  and  dramatic.  The  story  is 
so  original,  so  strong,  and  so  finely  told  that  it  deserves  a  large  and 
thoughtful  public.  It  is  a  book  to  read  with  both  enjoyment  and 
enlightenment."  —  N.  Y.  Times  Saturday  Review  of  Books. 


LIST  OF  FICTION 


The  Last  Word 

Illustrated  with  seven  portraits  of  the  heroine. 

Library  I2mo,  cloth,  gilt  top $i-5O 

"  When  one  receives  full  measure  to  overflowing  of  delight  in  a 
tender,  charming,  and  wholly  fascinating  new  piece  of  fiction,  the 
enthusiasm  is  apt  to  come  uppermost.  Miss  MacGowan  has  been 
known  before,  but  her  best  gift  has  here  declared  itself."  —  Louis- 
ville Post. 

Huldah 

With  illustrations  by  Fanny  Y.  Cory. 

Library  I2mo,  cloth  decorative  .  .  ,  .  .  .  $1.50 
Here  we  have  the  great-hearted,  capable  woman  of  the  Texas 
plains  dispensing  food  and  genial  philosophy  to  rough-and-ready 
cowboys.  Her  sympathy  takes  the  form  of  happy  laughter,  and 
her  delightfully  funny  phrases  amuse  the  fancy  and  stick  in  one's 
memory.  

WORKS  OF 

MORLEY  ROBERTS 

Rachel  flarr 

By  MORLEY  ROBERTS. 

Library  i2mo,  cloth  decorative $1.50 

"  A  novel  of  tremendous  force,  with  a  style  that  is  sure,  luxuriant, 
compelling,  full  of  color  and  vital  force."  —  Elia  W.  Peattie  in  Chi- 
cago Tribune. 

"  In  atmosphere,  if  nothing  else,  the  story  is  absolutely  perfect." 
—  Boston  Transcript. 

"  Will  be  widely  read  and  shrewdly  and  acutely  commented  upon 
through  many  years  yet  to  come."  —  Philadelphia  North  American. 

"  A  splendidly  wrought  book,  strong  as  the  winds  and  waves  are 
strong,  and  as  unregardful  as  they  of  mean  barriers." — Chicago 
Record- Herald. 

Lady  Penelope 

By  MORLEY   ROBERTS.     With  nine  illustrations  by  Arthur  W. 

Brown. 

Library  1 2mo,  cloth     .         ...         .        .         .         .     $1.50 

"  For  celerity  of  movement,  originality  of  plot,  and  fertility  of  in- 
vention, not  to  speak  of  a  decided  audacity  in  situation,  *  Lady 
Penelope '  is  easily  ahead  of  anything  in  the  spring  output  of 
fiction."  —  Chicago  News. 

"A  fresh  and  original  bit  of  comedy  as  amusing  as  it  is  auda- 
cious."—  Boston  Transcript. 


L.   C.   PAGE   AND    COMPANY^ 


The  Promotion  of  the  Admiral 

By  MORLEY  ROBERTS. 

Library  1 2mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated.         .        .         .    $1.50 

"  If  any  one  writes  better  sea  stories  than  Mr.  Roberts,  we  don't 
know  who  it  is ;  and  if  there  is  a  better  sea  story  of  its  kind  than 
this  it  would  be  a  joy  to  have  the  pleasure  of  reading  it."  —  New 
York  Sun. 

"  There  is  a  hearty  laugh  in  every  one  of  these  stories."  —  The 
Reader. 

"  To  read  these  stories  is  a  tonic  for  the  mind ;  the  stories  are 
gems,  and  for  pith  and  vigor  of  description  they  are  unequalled."  — 
N.  Y.  Commercial  Advertiser. 


WORKS  OF 

STEPHEN  CONRAD 

The  Second  Mrs.  Jim 

By  STEPHEN  CONRAD.     With  a  frontispiece  by  Ernest  Fosbery. 

Large  i6mo,  cloth  decorative     ......    $1.00 

Here  is  a  character  as  original  and  witty  as  "Mr.  Dooley  "  or 
"  the  self-made  merchant."  The  realm  of  humorous  fiction  is 
now  invaded  by  the  stepmother. 

"It  is  an  exceptionally  clever  piece  of  work."  —  Boston.  Tran- 
script. 

"'The  Second  Mrs.  Jim'  is  worth  as  many  Mrs.  Wiggses  as 
could  be  crowded  into  the  Cabbage  Patch.  The  racy  humor  and 
cheerfulness  and  wisdom  of  the  book  make  it  wholly  delightful."  — 
Philadelphia  Press. 

Mrs.  Jim  and  Mrs.  Jimmie 

With  a  frontispiece  in  colors  by  Arthur  W.  Brown. 

Library  I2mo,  cloth  decorative $1*50 

This  book  is  in  a  sense  a  sequel  to  "  The  Second  Mrs.  Jim," 
since  it  gives  further  glimpses  of  that  delightful  stepmother  and  her 
philosophy. 

"  Plenty  of  fun  and  humor  in  this  book.  Plenty  of  simple  pathos 
and  quietly  keen  depiction  of  human  nature  afford  contrast,  and 
every  chapter  is  worth  reading.  It  is  a  very  human  account  of 
life  in  a  small  country  town,  and  the  work  should  be  commended 
for  those  sterling  qualities  of  heart  and  naturalness  so  endearing  to 
many." —  Chicago  Record- Her  aid. 


LIST  OF  FICTION 


WORKS  OF 

ARTHUR  MORRISON 

The  Green  Diamond 

By  ARTHUR  MORRISON,  author  of  "  The  Red  Triangle,"  etc. 
Library  I2mo,  cloth  decorative,  with  six  illustrations          .     $1.50 
"  A  detective  story  of  unusual  ingenuity  and  intrigue."  —  Brooklyn 
Eagle. 

The  Red  Triangle 

Being  some  further  chronicles  of   Martin  Hewitt,  investigator. 

By   ARTHUR  MORRISON,   author  of  "  The  Hole  in  the   Wall," 

"  Tales  of  Mean  Streets,"  etc. 

Library  izmo,  cloth  decorative  .         .         .         .         .     $1.50 

"  Better  than  Sherlock  Holmes."  —  New  York  Tribune. 

"  The  reader  who  has  a  grain  of  fancy  or  imagination  may  be  de- 
fied to  lay  this  book  down,  once  he  has  begun  it,  until  the  last  word 
has  been  reached."  —  Philadelphia  North  American. 


WORKS  OF 

ELLIOTT  FLOWER 

Delightful  Dodd 

Illustrated  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 

Library  1 2mo,  cloth  decorative  .         .         .         .         .         .     $1.50 

"  «  Delightful  Dodd  'is  a  new  character  in  fiction  who  is  filled  to 
the  brim  with  sound  philosophy  and  who  gives  it  quaint  expression. 
In  all  comments  concerning  every-day  life,  there  is  something  which 
appeals  to  the  human  heart  and  which  is  soundly  philosophical  and 
philosophically  sound.  The  story  is  one  of  quiet  naturalness."  — 
Boston  Herald. 

"  The  candor  and  simplicity  of  Mr.  Flower's  narrative  in  general 
give  the  work  an  oddity  similar  to  that  which  characterized  the 
stories  of  the  late  Frank  Stockton."  — Chicago  News. 

The  Spoilsmen 

Library  i2mo,  cloth    .         .  «...         .    $1.50 

"  The  best  one  may  hear  of  '  The  Spoilsmen '  will  be  none  too 
good.  As  a  wide-awake,  snappy,  brilliant  political  story  it  has  few 
equals,  its  title-page  being  stamped  with  that  elusive  mark,  '  suc- 
cess.' One  should  not  miss  a  word  of  a  book  like  this  at  a  time 
like  this  and  in  a  world  of  politics  like  this."  — Boston  Transcript. 


10 L.    C.  PAGE  AND   COMPANY'S 

Slaves  of  Success 

With  twenty  illustrations  by  Jay  Hambidge. 

Library  i2tno,  cloth .    $1.50 

"  In  addition  to  having  given  the  reading  public  the  best  collec- 
tion of  political  short  stories  we  have  yet  seen,  Mr.  Flower  has 
blazed  a  new  trail  in  the  more  or  less  explored  country  of  practical 
politics  in  fiction.  There  is  not  a  story  in  the  book  which  is  not 
clever  in  construction,  and  significant  in  every  sentence.  Each  is 
excellent,  because  it  depicts  character  accurately  and  realistically, 
while  unfolding  a  well-defined  plot." —  New  York  Evening  Post. 


WORKS  OF 

THEODORE  ROBERTS 

Brothers  of  Peril 

With  four  illustrations  in  color  by  H.  C.  Edwards. 

Library  I2mo,  cloth  decorative    .        .        .        .        •        .     $1.50 

A  tale  of  Newfoundland  in  the  sixteenth  century,  and  of  the  now 
extinct  Beothic  Indians  who  lived  there. 

"  An  original  and  absorbing  story.  A  dashing  story  with  a  histor- 
ical turn.  There  is  no  lack  of  excitement  or  action  in  it,  all  being 
described  in  vigorous,  striking  style.  To  be  sure,  the  ending  is  just 
what  is  expected,  but  its  strength  lies  in  its  naturalness,  and  this 
applies  to  the  whole  story,  which  is  never  overdone ;  and  this  is 
somewhat  remarkable,  for  there  are  many  scenes  that  could  be 
easily  spoiled  by  a  less  skilful  writer.  A  story  of  unusual  interest." 
—  Boston  Transcript. 

Hemming,  the  Adventurer 

With  six  illustrations  by  A.  G.  Learned. 

Library  1 2mo,  cloth  decorative   .         .         .         .         .         .     #1.50 

"  A  remarkable  interpretation  of  the  nomadic  war  correspondent's 
life."  —  N.  Y.  Evening  Post. 

"  Its  ease  of  style,  its  rapidity,  its  interest  from  page  to  page,  are 
admirable;  and  it  shows  that  inimitable  power,  —  the  story-teller's 
gift  of  verisimilitude.  Its  sureness  and  clearness  are  excellent,  and 
its  portraiture  clear  and  pleasing.  It  shows  much  strength  and 
much  mature  power.  We  should  expect  such  a  writer  to  be  full  of 
capital  short  stories."  —  The  Reader. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 
LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


LD  21A-50m-8,'57 
(C8481slO)476B 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


YB  73884 


